


Idiots In A Band

by AnonymousArchive



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Album Planning, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Attempt at Humor, Band Fic, Bassist Iwaizumi Hajime, But I Promise The Story Is Good, Comeback, Composing, Concerts, Crack, Debut, Drummer Hinata Shouyou, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Guitarist Kageyama Tobio, Humor, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, It'll Take Time Though, Jealousy, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meet and Greets, Music, Musical Instruments, Musicians, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parallels, Pianist Sugawara Koushi, Recruitment, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Singer Oikawa Tooru, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Social Media, Song writing, Tags May Change, band practice, oikage, planning, practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22971031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousArchive/pseuds/AnonymousArchive
Summary: An energetic drummer, steadfast bassist, and gentle pianist constantly deal with the never-ending clash of their charismatic lead singer and the new intimidating guitarist.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Iwaizumi Hajime, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou & Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou & Sugawara Koushi, Iwaizumi Hajime & Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime & Sugawara Koushi, Kageyama Tobio & Sugawara Koushi, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi (mentioned)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 138





	1. And This Is How It Starts

The shouts were deafening, even from backstage.

Oikawa adjusted his earpiece while humming the familiar melody of their biggest hit, a song he was sure was expected of them.

“We’re going out in five,” Iwaizumi called, adjusting the strap of his bass guitar to fit snugly on his shoulders. “Make sure you’re all ready.”

“I’m always ready, Iwa-chan,” he said with a charming smile and a peace sign, the kind that his fans always raved about.

Immune, his best friend simply ignored the gesture. “Yeah, but Hinata isn’t.”

He turned his head towards the boy in question, who currently looked as though he was ready to vomit, clutching his drumsticks tight in closed fists. Despite the months of them performing live for crowds as big as the one awaiting their appearance, the redhead seemed to never let go of his stage fright.

He frowned at that. They didn’t have the time.

Reading the room, Sugawara piped warmly with a dismissive wave of a hand, “I got it. No worries.”

And just like that, things fall into place.

He smiled at his band, watching fondly at their pre-show preparations, proud of everything they’ve accomplished in the short amount of time they’ve risen to fame. Despite the little idiosyncrasies, he knew he wouldn’t want anyone else on his side when they walked onto the stage, bounding with nothing but raw energy to hype up the thousands of people who came to watch them play.

He wouldn’t ever replace Hinata on the drums, Sugawara on the piano, Iwaizumi on the bass, Kyoutani on the guitar—

His eyebrows creased at the reminder of their missing guitarist.

“Where is Mad Dog-chan, by the way?” he asked their ever-reliable bassist. “Don’t tell me he’s arriving late again. I know he’s got this whole image of unpredictability, but he really needs to learn how to stick to schedule!”

“What? You don’t know either?” was the answer he got back.

The blood drains from his face. If anyone would know, it should’ve been Iwaizumi. “You can’t joke, Iwa-chan. This is an important gig.”

“I’m not. I thought he’d told you.”

He groans, dramatic as ever, before then picking up his own guitar.

“Shrimpy!” he called out.

“Y-Yes?” the short boy replied, too nervous to whine about the nickname.

“Any clue on where our lead guitarist is?”

“Eh, Kyoutani-san?” he answers more enthusiastically, the conversation a distraction from his anxiety. “Sorry, Grand King. I don’t.”

“How about you, Koushi-chan?”

The pianist shrugs. “I have no idea.”

He groans again, this time louder. “Ugh! This is the worst.”

“We prepared an alternate version of our setlist for this very reason, remember?” Sugawara chimed in. “We’ll be fine.”

“We can’t _always_ play that version! We’re not reaching our full potential.”

The pianist sighed then, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms. He knew what Oikawa was trying to convey about a certain blonde bandmate, but it just wasn’t the time to talk about it. There was enough pressure on everyone’s shoulders to perform well tonight. They could settle their issues tomorrow.

Gladly enough, Iwaizumi understood. “One minute, Oikawa. There’s no time to think of that now.”

All he gave was a pout in response, before slinging his guitar strap over his shoulders, doing one final round of vocal warm-ups, and putting on his charm.

He watched as his members stepped out one by one, listened as the screaming intensified to degrees he didn’t think was possible, felt the thrum of their starting beats that pumped up the crowd. He waited for the note that signaled his cue to step out, pressed his earpiece closer to ensure he didn't miss it, stepped towards the exit in quiet anticipation.

Sure enough, there it was, and he was running to the stage, relishing in the voices that chanted his name.

When he arrives at the center, standing right in front of the microphone, he decides to make eye contact with the camera broadcasting his face on the two large screens and wink. It drives the fans wild.

Soon, he’s singing their first song’s starting lines, dedicated audience members singing along with him, and the excitement and adrenaline lasts throughout the duration of the long night.  
  


* * *

  
They lounge around the dressing room, wiping off the sweat from their brows, the concert rush having not once faded from their veins.

And while Hinata bounds with endless energy, obnoxiously loud voice ringing around the room, Oikawa was uncharacteristically silent, brows furrowed in irritation as he stared at his phone.

“When Oikawa-san’s guitar went _dun dun dunun dun_ along with Iwaizumi-san,” the boy excitedly spoke, still high from the success of their performance, playing air guitar as he mimicked the riffs with his voice, “I was going _crash boom crash boom._ It was so epic! And when you, Suga-san, played _niwniw niw niwniw niw_ —”

“Hinata, calm down!” Sugawara cut in with a laugh. “We get it. We played an amazing performance. Right, Oikawa?”

There was no reply.

“Oikawa?” the grey-haired boy tried again, poking the brunette’s cheek as he did so.

The action was enough to catch his attention. “Huh? What?”

He frowned at that, noting the unnatural response. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, you’re abnormally silent, Trashykawa,” came Iwaizumi’s supporting remark. “What gives?”

He doesn’t know how to break the news, so instead, he shows them his phone, shoving the screen towards their line of sight.

It was a simple text from their absent guitarist sent hours ago, most likely during their gig. The sentence might’ve been so extremely short, but it sent the message across perfectly well anyway.

> **Mad Dog-chan ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ [9:57 PM]**  
>  I’m quitting.

Sugawara and Iwaizumi had nothing to say to that.

“Come on guys, what’s with the gloomy silence?” the youngest member with endless high spirits exclaimed at the silence, wrapping his arms around the two others until he could butt his head in between theirs to see what the fuss was all about.

Oikawa watches the bubbly joy drain from that annoying face. It makes him frown.

“Mad Dog’s leaving?” he mumbled quietly in disbelief. “But… why?”

“Not like it matters,” the brunette coldly replied. “This just makes it easier for us to replace him.”

“No need to be so heartless,” Iwaizumi barked, moving away from their semi-huddle to sit down. “Kyoutani was still our bandmate.”

“He’s flaky as hell! He was gonna get kicked off anyway with that lack of care.”

Sugawara’s eyes widened at that then, muttering an incredulous “Oikawa!”

The singer stood from his place, placing a hand on his hip. “Hey now, don’t deny it. You all know I’m speaking the truth.”

When he receives no reaction from the three, he takes it as their silent agreement.

“I guess it’s settled then,” he remarks with a smug smile before clapping his hands together to add emphasis to the moment. “ _Soaring Glory_ needs a new member.”

Iwaizumi breaks his dramatic antics immediately, remarking with a sigh, “I forget just how stupidly pretentious our band name is.”

“Oh, shut up. You know you love it, Iwa-chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the adventure! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. There's more to come in the future, so stay tuned.
> 
> Sorry Tobio isn't in this yet, but I promise he'll be showing up in the next updates to come. It IS mentioned in the tags that this'll be a slow burn, so yeah.
> 
> Also, the inspiration behind their band name "Soaring Glory" is actually embarrassing. I used a Band Name Generator online and they suggested something with the word 'glory' in it. I liked the sound of it, and it kinda relates to Aoba Johsai's "Rule The Court" so I took it. Then I meshed it with 'soaring' because of Karasuno's "Fly". I swear, it really does sound pretentious. And trust me, the naming gets worse from here.
> 
> Don't hesitate to voice out your thoughts and leave a comment :) Thanks for swinging by to read this!
> 
> P.S. Anyone who guesses the songs used for the chapter titles correctly wins a special place in my heart~


	2. Don't Think It's In The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tedious task of recruitment doesn’t get any easier for the band. Luckily enough, the familiar name of a certain genius guitarist comes to the surface (much to Oikawa’s dismay).

It was ten in the morning, an odd time for them to already be gathered at the studio. On regular days, it would only be Hinata in the space, arriving at eight to smash around on his drums and practice their beats or create new ones for the fun of it. 

Today however, it was necessary to be early. 

All four members sat crossed legged on the floor in a circle, gathered around a pile of papers and an open laptop. To any random outsider, they probably looked like they were summoning a corporate demon. Given their growing desperation, they probably were close to doing exactly that.

“This is so hard!” Oikawa whined to his group, deciding to flop down onto the floor, folding his arms behind his head. “Why are all the good guitarists taken?”

“Maybe because they’re _good,_ idiot,” Iwaizumi retorted.

“So _mean,_ Iwa-chan! Your attitude is showing a little early.”

“Yours is present all the time!” the spiky-haired boy fought back. “Why can’t we just give these people a chance, anyway?”

The brunette gestured towards the laptop, displaying a paused YouTube video of a live performance on the screen. “You saw the videos. You know they’re not good enough.”

“Can we trust that alone?” he asked, skeptical.

The frontman remained unfazed. “Do you wanna hear the squeaky chords and off-tune guitar playing again? We could hit that replay button.”

“Don’t you wanna hold an audition instead?” Sugawara suggested before lying down on his back too. “We can post an announcement on Twitter. The followers will help it spread.”

“But imagine the number of hopefuls who show up, Koushi-chan,” he said sullenly at the thought. “We’ll barely be able to sift through them.”

The bassist scoffed. “Bold of you to assume we’d have a large turnout, Shittykawa.”

“With our rising fame? I bet if it’s not wannabe popstars, it’ll be hardcore fans,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Maybe we can handpick some from this bunch,” Hinata beamed, shuffling through the printed pages in search of a potential bandmate, still determined as ever. “They’re not as good as Mad Dog, but maybe some of them have potential too. We can find out through an interview if they’ll fit the band.”

“We’ve been here since seven, Shou-chan. We’ve looked through those profiles over and over already. And we still haven’t seen anyone we all want.”

At that remark, the orange-haired boy let go of the papers in his hands, before leaning back and joining the other two on the floor. Quietly, he murmured dejectedly, “Yeesh, Oikawa-san. I was just trying to help.”

Iwaizumi stared at his idiotic band with a frown.

“Lying around isn’t going to summon the perfect guitarist, and you all know that.”

“Well, sitting here isn’t going to help us progress either.”

“Are we completely out of options?” he tried. “Sure, we hate everyone in this list, but can’t we think of anything else? How about anyone else?”

Everyone paused silently, probably scouring their brain for names and ideas.

“I could ask Daichi,” Sugawara piped then, sitting back up and whipping out his phone to send his boyfriend a text. “He was planning to form a band himself, so maybe he has some leftover applicants.”

“Have we asked Shimizu-san?” Hinata added in, staring up at the ceiling.

“No, we haven’t!” Oikawa answered at the inquiry, jumping up from the ground with renewed hope. “Damn, that’s dumb. As our manager, she would know.”

“Does she even know Kyoutani quit?” said Iwaizumi.

Sheepishly, he rubbed a hand at his nape. “...No.”

“Really, Shittykawa? You haven’t informed her?”

“I-It slipped my mind!” he defensively replied. “I was too focused thinking of replacements.”

“Dumbass. We should have gone to her first.”

“Hey! No need to be rude.”

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” the bassist spoke to his best friend, crossing his arms. “We have options now, and no time to slack off. Go!”

“Alright, I’ll talk to Kiyoko-chan now!” the singer exclaimed, before bounding towards the door in haste. “But you and Shou-chan should go search harder online, find more people.”

Hinata sat up and gave a salute. “Roger that, Grand King!”

His gaze moved towards the grey-haired boy who was currently typing. “Koushi-chan, pester your lover until he gives us answers, okay?”

“Will do,” he replied sweetly, not bothering to look up from his phone’s screen.

Reinvigorated, Oikawa smiled widely and pumped a fist in the air. “Let’s go team!”

At that, the group began to work, using all their resources to find a fifth member.  
  


* * *

  
Hours later, they were lying on the floor of their studio yet again.

“Maaan, I feel dumb for believing that we had a shot,” Oikawa remarked with a sigh, an arm idly laying over his eyes.

“We just went in circles, didn’t we?” Sugawara replied with a short laugh. “I mean, I understand why Daichi rejected those people. They’re the same names in our files.”

“The internet wasn’t of use, either,” Iwaizumi added, uncharacteristically glum.

“Eh? You’re down in the dumps too, Iwaizumi-san?” Hinata said, turning his head to look at the boy in question.

“What? I can’t come up with anything.”

“It’s not like you. This is so odd.”

“I know when to admit defeat, Hinata.”

At that, the drummer sat up. “But we aren’t defeated yet!”

“Do you have any stellar ideas, Chibi-chan?” came the singer’s comment towards his unwavering enthusiasm.

“Hey, don’t call me that!” he argued with a pout. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me dumb nicknames, Oikawa-san?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“...No,” he admitted. “But I’ll come up with something!”

“Mmm, good luck with that.”

He took the challenge anyway, grabbing the laptop from the side it was resting, booting it up again to search the internet for a name. The others simply let him be, not bothering to stop him from efforts they thought to be fruitless, still lying down in various states on the ground.

Eventually, he finds the one. 

He feels extremely stupid for not remembering him in the first place.

“Bakageyama!”

The loud shout wakes the almost-asleep others to their senses, making them all sit up abruptly to stare curiously at their youngest member.

“What are you yelling on about, Hinata?” Iwaizumi spoke.

“Baka— um, Kageyama! He’s… he’s free.”

Upon hearing the name, Oikawa shrieks. “Tobio-chan?! Oh, no. No no no. We’re not doing that. Definitely not.”

The bassist scolds him then. “Stop being so dramatic! You know he’s the best fit.”

Before the stubborn lead could quip back, Sugawara intervenes, eyebrows creasing in wonder as he spoke, “Kageyama’s free? How come? Wasn’t he in a rising band himself?”

“Beats me,” Hinata simply said. “But look, here’s his application I found from his inactive record label.”

He turned the laptop to face the three, where the PDF file was displayed. Dead center was Kageyama Tobio’s intimidating self, face stuck in a permanent scowl and arms crossed over his chest as an electric guitar was placed by his side. It looked like a limited edition poster from the way it was edited, the background filled only with the heavy bold of Kageyama’s name. If not for the smaller ‘For Hire’ and contact details written beneath it, the band wouldn’t even be able to tell that it was a flyer.

Hinata scrolls down after a moment, revealing a more formal white page that contained details about the guitarist. Previous bands, solo gigs, performance history, achievements, songs co-written, instruments played, biometrics, and the like. 

“Kageyama sure cleans up great,” Sugawara remarked, smiling fondly at the image of the familiar boy. “He’s really embracing that dark and mysterious reputation.”

“He’s done so much, too. It’s infuriating but admirable,” Hinata added with a nod. “His musical talent is just out of this world!”

“He’s handing out flyers now? Wow, talk about lame,” Oikawa said to join in the conversation, his words the opposite of the praise his colleagues gave. He almost seemed to be obnoxiously happy about the guitarist’s fall from grace.

Ignoring the egotistical and prideful statement of his best friend, the bassist scrolled back to the first page and pointed at the screen. “That should be his number. Do we call him?”

“Ha! No—”

“Yes!” came Sugawara and Hinata’s equally excited response, the single word spoken in unison.

The brunette gapes at them, highly offended.

“How dare you all!”

“Trashykawa, now is not the time to be a jealous asshole,” his best friend commented immediately, knowing full well the reason behind his denial.

“Why are you so jealous anyway?” the drummer followed up with interest, asking in genuine curiosity. Sure, he knew of the stubborn singer’s harbored hatred for the talented guitarist, but he never got the chance to discover the context behind it. 

“I-I’m not jealous,” Oikawa exclaimed, wearing an insulted expression and dodging the question entirely.

“Don’t deny it,” Iwaizumi retorted. “You’ve seen almost all his performances, listened to almost all his songs, and watched almost all his interviews, both from his days with his band and his days on his own.”

“That’s just research! I need to know what I’m going up against, you know? It’s the only way to keep our fame. A guy with Tobio’s genius and natural talent can easily pass us in the charts and steal the show.”

“Have you even met him personally, Oikawa?” the pianist questioned.

“Oh, yes I have!” he answered proudly with a puff of his chest, as though presenting a medal. “We used to share the same guitar class. He was already a damn prodigy then, at such a young age.”

“And how long ago was that?”

He pouted, deflating at the question, gaze drifting down. “Four years ago.”

“Four years sounds like just enough time for you to let go of your personal vendetta.”

He clicked his tongue at the remark, unwilling to be swayed, before glaring at the trio in his stubbornness. “I can’t believe you’re all going against me, your favorite lead! How do you guys even _know_ him to root for him this much?”

“I watched one of his gigs, when he was still in K-3,” Hinata informed. “When that dissolved and his solo career began, I was hired temporarily to play his drummer for some local shows. We talked a bunch at that time. That was fun.”

Oikawa frowned at the dopey smile of fond nostalgia written all over the drummer’s face.

“Daichi showed me his videos,” Sugawara answered next, speaking plainly, catching the singer’s attention. “We also met him at a music festival by chance.”

The grey-haired then turned towards the redhead, surprised. “I didn’t know K-3 had broken up, though. That’s news!”

“I don’t know why that happened either,” supplied the shorter boy with a pout.

“Well, _I_ know him,” Iwaizumi then piped, returning their conversation to its main tracks, eyes sharply boring into Oikawa’s own, “only because you’re obsessed. Never would’ve heard the name if you didn’t rant about him so often.”

“Stop with the blasphemy, Iwa-chan!”

“If he intimidates you, it means he’s good,” the boy replied indifferently. “And if he’s on our side, then there won’t be any competition between you two. It’s a win-win for both parties.”

“But I’d have to _work_ with him! We’d have to practice, compose hits, and perform live together, which meant sharing the stage. That was never a problem with Mad Dog-chan only because he didn’t care, but I’m sure Tobio-chan cares! He would definitely care,” he whined, flailing his arms around to emphasize his complaining. “And then, before you know it, my fans would become his fans, and our band’s fans combined would be less than the ones he has, and soon he’ll become the new frontman. We don’t have room for another frontman!”

The bassist’s calm gaze suddenly grew cold, the kind that terrified Oikawa into surrender. When he spoke, his voice held the same chill his demeanor gave off, sending a shiver coursing through the brunette’s skin. 

“That… That’s your problem, Shittykawa?!”

The brunette felt himself flinch. He feels Hinata flinch next to him, too.

“No need to be so menacing, Iwaizumi,” Sugawara remarked warmly to the spiky-haired boy, seemingly unaffected by the scare. “You’re frightening half the band.”

With a sigh, the bandmate in question returned to his normal nature, frown however still strong on his face.

He breathes out a little at the returning ease, thankful for the presence of their refreshing pianist.

That grateful attitude dies immediately. “Anyways, I’m calling Kageyama.”

“But Koushi—”

“He’s not going to replace you, Oikawa. Nor is he going to steal your spotlight. We’re hiring him as a guitarist, not a singer.”

“But—”

“You _know_ we need him,” the boy cut off again, emphasis heavy in his words, wearing a knowing look.

At that, he finally bit his lip, swallowing down the rest of his grievances, watching helplessly as the digits on the digital flyer were typed into the phone.

He can definitely swallow enough of his pride to make this work, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another update! Hope you enjoy it. I'll try my best to keep it consistent, probably once a week, but no promises.
> 
> I'm sorry to say that our dear blueberry Tobio is not here again HAHA. But hey, he's been summoned in this chapter sooo expect him soon. Like, REALLY soon ;)
> 
> Regarding his old band's name, all I can say is that I'm sorry HAHAHA (I warned you guys about the naming getting worse). I acknowledge that "K-3" is a lame and dumb band name, and that in reality, no one would stan anyone called that, but in this alternate universe, let's just pretend it's cool, yeah?
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave your thoughts down in the comments below! I absolutely adore hearing from you guys so yeah.


	3. Burned Too Bright, Now The Fire's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group welcomes the talented Kageyama Tobio to their team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's finally here, guys. Tobio's here.

They were at the studio early again. 

This time, not sprawled around a cluttered mess of documents. Instead, they were all waiting, each member focused on a menial task.

Sitting on his drum throne, Hinata was playing air drums exaggeratedly to the rhythm of the music that played loudly in his wireless headphones, honey brown eyes screwed shut. In front of him was Sugawara, who currently sat crossed legged on the floor, gaze locked on his phone as he checked up on the fans online and replied to some of their comments, tweets, and whatnot. Iwaizumi was beside the door, perched on top of an equipment box, blanketed by sheer focus as he tuned his bass guitar for what probably was already the third time. Pacing nearby in search of good lighting was Oikawa, who had his mobile’s front camera out, testing the different filters he’d discovered on Instagram and pulling off a variety of facial expressions and hand gestures.

A peaceful quiet had enveloped them in the passing minutes, making the day feel like one that was mundane, as if they weren’t just about to make important changes to their band. It probably had looked like they were just warming up for practice, not at all awaiting the arrival of their new recruit.

Eventually, the silence was broken by Sugawara.

“Kageyama texted. He’s in the building!” he exclaimed excitedly, standing up with a little hop.

Iwaizumi glanced towards his wristwatch. “He’s fifteen minutes early. Already an improvement from Kyoutani.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Really, Iwa-chan? Was the bar set by Mad Dog-chan that low to you?”

“Promise me you won’t be an insufferable brat to Kageyama or I’ll kick your ass.”

“What are you talking about?” the singer feigned innocence, a grin dancing on his lips. “I’m always a delight to be around.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“Rude!”

Ignoring the duo’s jabs, already used to their behavior, the pianist moved to exit. “I’ll pick him up from the lobby and introduce him to Shimizu first to settle legalities. Behave while I’m gone, okay?”

Both men give half-hearted hums in response.

When the door clicks shut behind him, Iwaizumi fixates a pointed look towards his best friend.

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Don’t give the boy an unnecessarily hard time.”

He sighed, placing a hand on his hip, sassy as ever. “Well, don’t expect me to start babying him either! He needs to earn his place in the band and prove himself.”

“He has nothing to prove that you don’t already know,” the spiky-haired member supplied. “You’re just looking for a reason to antagonize him.”

“I’m not that awful and childish!”

The look that Iwaizumi gives him tells him that the boy believed otherwise.

“I hate you,” he spits, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his best friend. “Why don’t you just trust me?”

“On the topic of Kageyama? Yeah, like I’d make that mistake.”

“Iwa-chaaaan!” Oikawa whined.

He groaned at that. “I swear, Crappykawa, if you even _think_ about torturing him with your petty bullshit, I’ll delete all your social media accounts.”

The vain lead gasped at the threat, knowing well that it wasn’t an empty one. The boy just knew him well enough to know what buttons to press. 

Eventually, he relented. “Fine! I won’t be too mean.”

Iwaizumi had to be satisfied with that.  
  


* * *

  
Sugawara returns to the studio a good twenty minutes later, the outsider in tow behind him.

“Let me get you acquainted with the rest of the gang!” the bubbly grey-haired pianist chimed up at the taller boy with a sweet smile.

Together, they walked towards Iwaizumi, who had now stood up from his place to properly greet Kageyama. “This is Iwaizumi Hajime, our bassist.”

Extending a hand and wearing a genuine smile, the spiky-haired boy spoke in a friendly manner, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Kageyama.”

“You as well, Iwaizumi-san,” came his response as he took the outstretched hand in his and gave a firm shake.

Next, they proceeded towards the still-distracted drummer who hadn’t really paid attention to anyone ever since he started his solo jamming session. He was still caught up in his silent drumming, headphones probably too loud to allow him to catch any outside sound.

With a fond sigh, Sugawara gestured towards the redhead. “I’m sure you’re familiar with our drummer already, but I’ll introduce you all the same. This is Hinata Shouyou.” 

The pianist then walked behind the drum kit, taking off his bandmate’s headset.

“Hey! What—” the boy reacted violently, eyebrows creasing at the intervention.

“Hinata, Kageyama’s here!”

“Oh!” he caught himself, demeanor shifting almost immediately. He turned to face the boy, smiling so wide that it reached his eyes. “Yamayama-kun! Welcome to Soaring Glory.”

“Good to see you, dumbass.” Kageyama didn’t bother shaking his hand.

Despite its derogatory nature, Hinata recognizes the nickname immediately from their past and beams at the reminder. “I can’t wait to play with you again!”

The raven-haired boy doesn’t react, but the sparkle in his eyes conveys that he, too, feels the same.

When Sugawara returns the headphones to the drummer, they move towards the last member left. Kageyama, upon knowing already who to expect, braces himself and prepares for the worst.

Oikawa, who was too busy listening to pop music through his earphones and following his diehard fans back on Twitter, hadn’t even noticed them approaching in the first place. It wasn’t until he caught the sight of an unfamiliar guitar case from the corner of his eyes that he decided to look up from his phone and pay heed to the new company.

He frowned at the blue-eyed gaze he’s met with, ever so fierce and bright at the same time.

Oblivious to the intensity of the unspoken interaction, Sugawara kept going. “And of course, our lead singer and frontman—”

“Tobio-chan,” he coldly remarks, yanking off his earphones with a tug of its cord, making sure he sent his own piercing stare right back at the guitarist.

“Hello, Oikawa-san.”

They stare at each other for a moment, unwilling to look away as though breaking it first meant defeat.

“No need to get so heated, you guys,” the calm presence of the pianist intervenes then, dulling the tension a slight bit.

Broken out of the momentary stupor, Kageyama remembers his manners. He raises a hand tentatively, waiting with bated breath for the rejection of even a simple handshake. 

He masks his surprise when Oikawa takes it.  
  


* * *

  
They have Kageyama showcase his talent to gauge his expertise, and without a doubt, he wows them all with his guitar prowess (although Oikawa would never admit he was impressed). 

His long fingers seemed to naturally shift through a variety of chords — both simple and complex — in quick succession, playing what should be a difficult tune with ease. His strumming technique and timing was evidently impeccable, hands not once faltering or missing a beat even when the song reached its elaborate peak. To top it all off, it didn’t even look like he was trying too hard.

When the song ends, the menacing boy looks up from his razor-sharp focus on the electric guitar to find the stunned expressions of three out of four. The stubborn lead simply narrows his eyes at him.

“Um…” he starts awkwardly, unsure what to make of their reactions, slinging his strap off.

Hinata rambles then, starry-eyed in admiration, “That was amazing, Kageyama! You’re so cool! No wonder they call you King of the Sound.”

He flinches at the nickname. “Please don’t call me that.”

Oikawa smirks at the show of weakness. “Oh? Tobio-chan doesn’t like getting called a king, huh?”

He shoots the singer a glare but says nothing else.

“With your skill, it’s actually surprising that you have no band or gigs,” Iwaizumi comments. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is that?”

He sighs, knowing that the question was going to surface eventually. He just didn’t think it’d be on the first day.

His history was quite the mess, to be honest; probably the biggest skeleton in his closet. Events leading up to his eventual crash and burn still stung to think about, waking the inklings of guilt like an itch on his skin, but it always followed him around, unavoidable. He had been different then, just a young boy who looked too far into the future, addicted to the idea of stardom and top chart hits. A band with rising fame, he knew K-3 had potential to be known worldwide and did everything he could to take them there. Kindaichi and Kunimi were content where they were, however. They just wanted to create music after all.

The different motives put a rift between him and them, which he only worsened with his sudden shift in attitude. In the path to fame, he’d become some kind of dictator, a pushy and demanding frontman who was never satisfied. He kept forcing Kindaichi to practice complicated drumming and Kunimi to rewrite the bass lines he’d created. He understood why they got sick of him eventually, putting an end to his rule.

He just wished they never made the stupid nickname. It was a stab disguised as a compliment.

“I lost success because I wasn’t a team player,” he states plainly and bluntly, sparing them the unnecessary details as he lowered his guitar gently. “Kindaichi and Kunimi got fed up with me being a dick and kicked me out.” 

“How about your solo career?” the pianist inquired. “What made you leave that behind?”

He paused to think about it. He doesn’t really remember much from his solitary days, beyond the fact that it was a dead end.

He found a record label, wrote songs, sang his verses, rocked his guitar, performed enough gigs with temporary bandmates, and even managed to bag some minor awards. Yet despite the effort he put in, alone wasn’t better than Kindaichi and Kunimi; being in a band still got him more traction than being a solo act. Management told him the problem had something to do with his scowl, that he’ll do well when he had other members to balance his intimidating image out.

“It worked for a while,” he remarked simply with a frown, “but the label told me that I was coming off as too terrifying.”

Oikawa can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth. He’s met with four searing glares.

“What?” he squawks. “It’s funny.”

“You really are a shithead, Assikawa.”

The brunette ignored Iwaizumi, choosing instead to tease his newest bandmate, pinching the boy’s cheek as he did so, “Poor you, born with such a mean face. If only you had half my charm and good looks, Tobio-chan! Maybe your career wouldn’t have gone up in flames.”

“Shut up,” he retaliated, removing the intruding hand from his face. “My career hasn’t ended yet for you to say that.”

“He’s right, Oikawa-san!” Hinata exclaimed cheerfully. “Kageyama’s comeback starts with us.”

“Eh? Why would we help him do that?”

“He’s the one doing us a favor by being here, asshat,” Iwaizumi reminded. “The least you could do is be decent.”

“I refuse to consent to this kind of torture, Iwa-chan!”

“Why the hell are you so dramatic? For fuck’s sake!”

As the two bickered on, throwing shade and snide remarks at each other in their usual way, Sugawara returned his focus to Kageyama who was watching the mess unfold before him with amusement. He tapped the taller boy on the shoulder then to catch his attention. 

When he received a questioning gaze, he spoke, “I hope you know that you’re fully welcome here, Kageyama. In fact, you deserve to be with us. We might be a handful, but rest assured I’ll do everything I can to help you fit in.”

The new recruit was taken aback by the intensity of the sentiment, the words laced with a clear-cut acceptance he hadn’t received in ages. He didn’t know what he was expecting Sugawara to say, but it definitely wasn’t this. He knew he had a long way to go to truly deserve it, knew that his bandmate barely even knew him to make extreme declarations like that, but the kindness in the pianist’s voice was convincing enough to make him feel warm inside.

It was then that he realized that this was it. His redemption arc, his second chance, his new beginning.

He was going to do everything in his power to make it work this time.

He bowed deeply in gratitude. “Thank you, Sugawara-san!”

When he rises back up again, he allows the briefest of genuine smiles to sneak onto his usually stoic face.

The drummer spots the difference, easily. “Bakageyama, are you actually smiling?!”

“Shut up, Hinata dumbass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this update! It was heavily centered around Tobio, so to everyone who was waiting: I hope you're satisfied.
> 
> I know there were a lot of major backstory details at the latter part of the chapter; the main point of it was to bring context to his past. I just didn't want to have to drag it out much since I'd personally prefer to focus on the future moving forward (by future I mean him fitting in with the new bois, and all that jazz).
> 
> Did you catch the parallels to canon? I do hope they make sense :") and that I didn't butcher Tobio's character up at all.
> 
> Please do leave a kudos and a comment if you're enjoying this so far! I've been consistent with new chapters recently, so I hope I can keep it up (although my laptop broke sjdhskj but I'll still try).
> 
> I have 2 other Oikage fics up on my account at the moment of publishing this too (shameless self promo lmao). If you like my writing, do check those out!


	4. Heavy The Head That Bears The Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitting in isn’t exactly easy for a king who only knew how to rule.

The first week together, Kageyama practiced on his own.

He felt like it was important to familiarize himself first with their sound, learning and mastering the chords to every song before he could truly start integrating into band practices. The others understood his intention and let him be. (Oikawa was particularly happy he didn’t have to play with him yet. Iwaizumi scolded him for it, as usual.)

In his sessions, he would first plug in his headphones to listen closely for the familiar tune of the lead guitar, cross checking the sound with the chords he was given by Oikawa. After two repetitions of that, he’d then start strumming along until he didn’t need to look at the references anymore, hands knowing already where to go, playing in perfect timing with the studio version.

He did this for all of Soaring Glory’s music, which consisted of their most recent single, one album with twelve tracks, and one EP with four. Despite the fact that he was also given a copy of the usual setlist, he went ahead and ignored it, choosing instead to study it all.

It doesn’t even take him that long. Three days in, and he was smoothly flowing through song after song.

The others pretended not to be paying attention, busying themselves with their own instruments and solo practices, but it was hard to ignore Kageyama’s spot-on guitar playing. He strummed in a way that made it seem like he’d been part of the group for years, not at all a new addition to the team.

“He’s damn good,” Iwaizumi murmured to the others, taking a break from his own work as he watched the raven-haired boy.

“I definitely knew he’d fit,” Sugawara beamed in response, stepping away from his keyboard momentarily. “Can you believe he’s only been with us for three days so far?”

“Yamayama-kun’s talent is really special,” Hinata added, drumming a soft beat while he spoke, “but I didn’t expect him to adjust that fast. He’s like a freak!”

“He hasn’t even played with us,” Oikawa said with an eye roll, lazily strumming random slow notes on an acoustic guitar. “He’s called King of the Sound for a reason beyond his talent, remember?”

“There’s another reason?” the drummer remarked, dumbfounded. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t you ever wonder why he hates it?”

“Now that you mention it, he did react negatively when Hinata used the nickname,” the pianist mused, voicing out his thoughts.

“I’m more curious why you know, Oikawa,” the bassist chimed in, giving him a suspicious look.

“Research!” he exclaimed quickly and defensively, cheeks heating up.

The trio laughed at his flustered state but he was no longer paying attention, eyeing his former classmate critically.

Despite the conversation, it seemed that Kageyama remained undisturbed, eyes shut as he lost himself to the music. He wondered if the boy could even hear his own playing despite both ears being covered by the headphones that blasted their records, wondered if he knew what kind of outcome his strumming was creating. From the look of his face, it didn’t even seem like he was well aware of the outside world, completely in the dark about the praise his bandmates were giving.

He knew of the boy’s greatest weakness, though. He knew what caused the sudden downfall of the rising renowned musician.

At the thought, he smirked cruelly, delighting in the fact that all those compliments would shatter soon. Once they saw the truth, he was sure they’d bite back their tongue to hold back the acclaims, eventually finding out what King of the Sound really meant.

“I can practically feel the dark energy radiating off you, Shittykawa. Cut it out!”  
  


* * *

  
They’ve tried for the whole day, but nothing seemed to be working. The guitarist, despite all his excellence on his own, lacked heavily in the skill to sync with the band.

Now without the distraction of strictly sticking to the song’s script, Kageyama made it his priority to put on a good show. That meant that when the opportunity presented itself, he’d take spontaneous risks without warning the others first, playing certain chords in a flashy manner, adding his own cool twist and fresh spin. And while in theory it would’ve been epic to pull off on stage, his technique stunning crowds to silence before eliciting a cacophony of excited shouts, it just didn’t translate well in practice. His members, despite their skillful mastery of their own chosen instruments, just couldn’t catch up.

He hadn’t even tried once to shift and read the atmosphere the others were setting, too hooked into his own playing. It was like he was isolating himself unconsciously, strumming with a one track mind. 

The others quickly realized the problem. Once Kageyama put his focus into his craft, it was hard to shake him out.

In the end, every song turned out a mess.

Prideful-superstar Oikawa wanted so desperately to rub the failure in. He wanted to stick out his tongue in spite and drag his Tobio-chan down with insults regarding his trash performance just now, maybe even scare him with the threat of being kicked out as quickly as he was accepted. Every egotistical fiber of his being wanted to shame him in front of the others, make him get off his high horse, and prove that even with all that talent, he would never surpass the singer who knew how to heighten every member’s skill until it reached maximum potential.

However, Lead-of-the-band Oikawa understood that despite the urge to defeat the next-level guitarist, the boy was now his responsibility. That meant that he had to guide him, bring out his best, and treat him like he’s treated the others. He was officially here, playing music with them now so he’d be able to perform it well in front of rows and rows of fans for concerts. And given how he was currently doing, extremely out of touch from the rest of the band, the frontman knew they couldn’t proceed this way. He wouldn’t allow the guitarist’s flaws to burn them to the ground, grudges be damned.

So instead, he went to save them.

Even while they were in the middle of a number, he suddenly stopped singing. Everyone but Kageyama caught the cue.

It was the sound of a lone electric guitar that made the new member snap back to his senses, staring at his bandmates with a confused look, like he’d been stuck in a haze and had just awakened.

“Tobio-chaaan,” the singer whined. “You’re a wreck!”

“Wh-What?” the boy in question stuttered, flushing in embarrassment.

“Your tricks, they’re just not working,” he explained then with a small frown. “We get that you’re a genius who can do showy riffs, but we can’t match your playing if you’re not willing to match us.”

“I…” he started, but trailed off as realization washed over him like a wave.

It was like he hadn’t improved at all, still a damn solitary king who kept trying to take control. Kageyama wanted to beat himself up right then and there.

He caught the wary and worried look Iwaizumi, Sugawara, and Hinata sent him, suddenly feeling guilty for his disregard of their presence and undeserving of their sympathies. It was only Oikawa who wore an unreadable expression, which truth be told was scarier than his look of irritation.

“I’m sorry,” he piped then, humiliation lacing his tone. “I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t apologize with your words,” the brunette remarked, turning away to pick up his own guitar and motion for the others to return to their instruments. “Use your actions. Try harder to pay attention to your lowly subjects this time, king.”

He didn’t comment on the nickname. He knew it was warranted right now.

“We’ll take it from the top.”

At that, they tried again.  
  


* * *

  
The next sets they play are better but worse at the same time. Oikawa wonders how anyone could even achieve anything _that_ contradictory; guess Kageyama truly was one of a kind.

He at least was paying attention now, seeming to listen out for sounds other than his own guitar strumming, matching himself to their beat. That however meant he sacrificed his showmanship, playing a little too safely and cookie-cutter to elicit the kind of excitement people look for in live performances. He was polished, blending in perfectly with the rest, but too polished that fans might as well just watch the music video again and there wouldn’t be much difference.

The rest of the band would do their own flashy tricks, sure — Hinata would suddenly drum up a booming impromptu beat that the others could get behind, Iwaizumi would extend his solo the perfect amount to let the deep thrum of his bass guitar resonate into their heartbeats, Sugawara would masterfully play a more flamboyant variation of his original piano chords, and Oikawa would sing an impressive vocal run that wasn’t included in the recorded version of the track — but the lack of a guitar solo still didn’t feel right, made it seem as though a puzzle piece was missing.

On the bright side, at least Kageyama could adjust to the band now, despite their unscripted playing antics.

The way the boy looked when practice was over however told Oikawa that he wasn’t satisfied by that, knowing too that he was still messing up.

“You know what’s wrong, don’t you?” the singer suddenly spoke, catching the attention of the others who were busy cleaning up the studio and drying their sweat-covered skin.

The guitarist, wearing a scowl more intense than his resting bitch face, looked up from his water bottle with a gaze that told the brunette that his answer was yes.

He didn’t wait for the voiced-out affirmation. “Good. We’ll work on it tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” came the whispered out response that echoed like a shout in the silent room. “Maybe you should hire someone else.”

He can’t deny the shock and surprise, caught off-guard by the statement. The others seemed to feel the same.

“Bakageyama, do you seriously think we’re gonna kick you just because of one bad day?”

The newcomer didn’t answer the drummer, scoffing instead as he busied himself with packing his equipment.

“That’s not how this works, dummy.”

“Small Fry’s right, Tobio-chan,” the singer hummed, ignoring the irritated pout of the ginger at the new nickname. “Although that idea _does_ sound lovely to my ears, you’ve already signed a contract, remember? Firing you would be a waste of good energy.”

“Don’t mind Oikawa, Kageyama,” Iwaizumi commented then, glaring at the boy in question before returning his attention to the raven-haired guitarist. “And don’t beat yourself up over this. We still have time before our first gig. You’ll find a way to fit eventually.”

“Practice makes perfect!” Sugawara added, giving a cliche motivational quote. “We’ll keep playing until we bring out our best.”

Kageyama looked at them and observed the raw determination glinting in the shine of their eyes, a stark sign that they had a lot of faith in him and were ready to help him achieve what they knew and believed he could. Even Oikawa, who always showed him an expression of irritation and distaste, actually looked like he was somewhat optimistic.

He didn’t deserve it. They were making a mistake by trusting him.

He cast his gaze downward. Begrudgingly, he gave out an unenthusiastic reply in the hopes that they’d leave him alone, “Okay, thanks.”

Despite his effort to appease them with his curt response, the boy was as transparent as glass. Everyone in the room could hear the real message behind his words, a loud and clear _‘No, it wasn’t okay, but thanks for trying to cheer me up’._

Oikawa sighs then. “You’re so annoyingly stubborn, Tobio-chan! Our words are empty to you, aren’t they?”

The guitarist actually looked like he was a deer caught in the headlights. “I-It’s not like I don’t appreciate it—”

“Stop being so heartbroken, then.”

He pouted, a rare expression on such a hard face, mumbling out his reply, “It’s not that easy, Oikawa-san.”

The singer sighed again. 

Picking up his guitar, he whined, “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this!” 

The others watched on, confused.

“Everyone who isn’t an irritating guitarist, you’re free to go,” he said as he waved his hand towards the door, as though shooing the other band members. “While you, Tobio, should pick that guitar back up. As much as it personally _hurts_ me to do this, I’ll relent this once and mentor you so you can stop being so sulky. Seriously, it’s not a good look on you.”

“...What?”

“Just pick up your guitar before I regret it,” he barked.

Everyone moved then. The other band members silently exited the studio with their stuff, officially ending the day, leaving with an amused look glued towards the two who remained. Kageyama meanwhile diligently followed Oikawa’s instructions, afraid to mess up this opportunity; having the taller boy guide him was an extremely rare feat that he didn’t think he’d ever experience given their history.

Stepping close, he spoke awkwardly, “Um, I’m ready, Oikawa-san.”

“Great.” The brunette decided to be clinical to make this easier for both of them. “Since your problem is finding balance between syncing with us and shredding on your guitar, let’s practice this way: I’ll play a random rhythm, and your job will be to play something to complement it.”

Kageyama blinked, taken aback by how serious Oikawa was taking this.

He sighed again, for what probably was the hundredth time that day. “Look, I know I hate you and all, but this session isn’t just some dumb excuse to rub salt in your wounds. We’re _actually_ going to work on your skills, okay?”

A pause.

“So you’re… really going to teach me?”

The word _‘teach’_ sends Oikawa back, a distant memory of music class and little Tobio staring up at him with wide-eyed admiration coming to mind.

He cringes.

“Don’t make it sound so grand, Tobio-chan. It’s not like I’ve gone to space and given you the moon.”

”Sorry,” the boy murmurs then.

The stark dejection makes Oikawa feel guilty, so he adds, “But… I guess I’ll let you call me _senpai_ now.” 

The blue-eyed boy gives him a look of uncertainty. “That’s weird, Oikawa-san.”

“What?! You’re such a confusing brat. Tobio-chan’s gonna make me explode!” he complained with a groan. “Let’s just do this already. We’re wasting time!”

He began the beat. Kageyama followed suit. And after numerous trials and errors, Oikawa actually felt hopeful.

His bandmate was really listening to the input he gave, nodding his head as he evaluated the new information, integrating his tips to the next rendition they played. Each time, they would discuss what was good and what was wrong about the tune, and the solitary guitarist was actually progressing, using the feedback to play better.

He knew then that the King of the Sound was slowly turning into the King of the Crowd. And although most times that would have made Oikawa angry, irritated, and envious to the extremes, right now all he felt was proud.

Hell, they were gonna be _goddamn_ great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here's your weekly update! With king metaphors for our blueberry boy, because who could ever resist those amirite???
> 
> But anyway, I do hope u enjoyed reading this lil thing! Please leave a comment down below; I would love to hear from you guys <3
> 
> I also hope that I was able to capture Kageyama right in this chapter and that I didn't ruin his character AHAHA. It just seemed fitting to me that these would be his "issues" in a world where he was a musician instead of an athlete. 
> 
> And since Oikawa is kind of the "captain" of the band (who is also a guitar player becoz they have the same specialization), it also seemed fitting that he'd be the one to reach out and help, despite his harbored hate lmao. A true senpai-kouhai Oikage moment ;) but it'll be a while before u guys get another one HAHA slow burn and all. 
> 
> Anywayyy (since this A/N is getting lengthy already), make sure to stay cool and stay safe amid the COVID-19 crisis my dudes. Thanks for sparing a moment to read my stuff :3 If you wanna talk to me off AO3, I do have an [Instagram account](https://www.instagram.com/maeniac.exe/) :)


	5. One More Time For Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time for the king’s return to the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update and still, the king metaphors keep coming HAHA. Never letting those go.

Practices have gone smoothly since, a steady flow of improvement and mastery seen after every session. Like a calm wave building up in density, Kageyama kept growing, evolving in the way he played his solos, the way he fit into the group, and the way he paid apt attention to all elements on the stage. He was a work in progress, and progress he did do.

After a whole month of polishing, they were ready.

Standing backstage yet again for another concert gig, the band did their pre-show warm-ups. It was interesting to see that Kageyama’s routine involved stretching, intensive as though he was about to participate in an Olympic sport. Oikawa ridiculed the boy about it, but the guitarist remained unfazed by the mockery, simply explaining to his newly dubbed senpai how live performances were just as taxing as workouts.

“You know he’s got a point, Oikawa,” Sugawara remarked with a smile, also performing his own kind of stretching, which focused mostly on his arms and fingers.

“Whatever losers,” the singer had said in reply, teasing tone in his voice. “You two might as well join a volleyball team instead of a band.”

“Why, of all sports, does it have to be volleyball?” the pianist remarked with a laugh, before moving on and heading over to Hinata to help him calm down, a task so repeatedly performed that it might as well have been his responsibility now.

Kageyama watched the interaction from afar, amused at the drummer’s queasiness. 

“Is that normal?” he voiced.

“Yeah,” came Iwaizumi’s casual response. “The kid’s always shaking before performances, it’s crazy. Don’t worry about it though, he’ll recover eventually.”

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“Have you never seen Shou-chan look like he’s about to die before?” Oikawa inquired, disbelieving. “Didn’t you two play gigs together?”

“We did, but those were small,” he supplied in reply. “Probably not enough to freak him out.”

“Ah, of course. Why did I think Tobio-chan would have sold-out shows? My bad.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at the insult, but made no effort to fight back.

Iwaizumi started to chastise Oikawa for the remark, but the brunette was already distracted by Kageyama’s passive demeanor. If the new recruit was feeling antsy for his debut with Soaring Glory and his return to the music industry, he definitely was trying to mask it in his silence.

“Don’t tell me the king’s in distress now,” he spoke smugly, pointedly ignoring the bassist who was still speaking. He hears the impatient breath that escapes then, but pays it no mind.

“I-I’m not,” Kageyama denied (although in his flustered state, it was a painfully obvious lie).

“If you’d like to join Chibi-chan, by all means, go ahead.”

“Chibi— huh?”

The bassist cuts in then, before their frontman could give out another quip. “If you’re scared of how the crowd will accept you, then you have nothing to worry about, Kageyama. You’ve improved greatly over the past weeks. I’m sure it’ll reflect perfectly on your performance.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san,” was the respectful reply he gave, the briefest hints of a smile almost projecting onto his face.

“Not fair, Iwa-chan. You totally ruined my condescending speech!” Oikawa whined then.

“You’re not even supposed to have a condescending speech, Crappykawa!”

As the duo’s bickering ensued, Kageyama went to pick up his guitar, slinging its strap over his shoulder. The weight of the instrument has him reeling in memories, flashes of bright stages and roaring crowds and tour dates a montage in his mind. It leaves him nostalgic, and for a moment he feels like he can’t breathe.

But when he hears the faint thundering of fans from outside, a reminder that he was here backstage, about to play yet another show with a group of boys who had welcomed him whole, the breathless tightness turns into something else, something akin to anticipation.

Invigorated, his skin tingles with the need to step out into the limelight and give the best show he has ever played.

“Five minutes,” he hears someone call out to the band.

God, he can’t wait.  
  


* * *

  
Oikawa usually stepped out onto the stage last.

It was a necessary tactic, given that the person who was revealed last caused the loudest of screams from the crowd, signifying heavy importance and large amounts of adoration from the fans. As the frontman, it was _him_ who had an influx of attention, fangirls (and fanboys, too) always making sure to let him know how loved he is with their squeals and chants of his name.

Despite the undertones of some sort of inequality in rank that this brought, he knew that as members of the same team, they all had the same value and worth. Sure, being center stage never failed to boost his ego and he was an attention whore who’d drink the spotlight up. But, at the end of the day, he always acknowledged that they were merely playing different roles with different benefits. He accepted the fact that as their lead singer, this was just part of his job.

However, the fact that someone else was walking out after him just didn’t sit well with him. Especially if that someone was their surprise in the form of a blue-eyed boy with an eternal frown.

Call him petty, but he just didn’t want to get eclipsed by the talented Kageyama Tobio.

“I’m still better than you,” he barked, breaking the quiet that had transpired between the two as they waited backstage, “so stay on your lane. You don’t have the right to outshine me today, got it?”

Kageyama, who was busy fixing his earpiece, turned towards his senpai with a curious look. “...Okay.”

“What do you mean _‘okay’_ , Tobio-chan? That’s really all you have to say?”

“Um,” the boy awkwardly scratched at his nape. “Yes?”

“Ugh, you’re irritating,” he huffed, pouting as he hugged his guitar. “Here I am losing my mind trying to rile you up and you stay unaffected.”

And maybe it was annoying, how easy it was for Kageyama to not care at all about attention, to not care for the very thing Oikawa was stressing over, but the singer knew he had a different kind of fame in mind.

“I know you’re meant to be our band’s face, Oikawa-san, so take all the spotlight you want.”

“Oh, I will,” he retorted then, glaring. “You’ll see—”

He’s interrupted by the sound of the familiar beat, the greenlight that meant it was time.

He breathed out then, changing his demeanor entirely to one of unending charm. 

Turning to face his guitarist, he reminded, “Wait for your name, okay? Come out only when I say your name.”

At the stiff nod, he turned back around, leaving the dark and stepping out.

Roaring sounds of excitement surround him, immensely deafening in intensity. Despite the overwhelming sensations the hype gave him, he manages to give them all his signature smile as he bounded his way towards his place, microphone stand awaiting his arrival. He clutches onto the handle, smooth metal beneath slender fingertips, before tapping the top with his finger twice as an unofficial mic test, allowing the reverb to echo through the venue. 

The instruments die down to silence at his gesture, all band members secretly knowing that an announcement was about to be made, and that uncharacteristic change of an entrance (they usually just jump into the first song before making any greetings) makes the already-present screaming get louder in volume. If not for their earpieces, the brunette swears he’d barely be able to hear himself.

“Hi guys, welcome to the show!” he exclaimed sweetly into the microphone, starting. “We’re so happy you came out tonight to see us live. It’s really an honor!”

The shouts come in as some sort of affirmation. He keeps going when they give him room to speak. “I know this is coming off as odd — _‘why is Oikawa talking so much?’_ — but don’t worry, we won’t waste your time with boring chatter. We actually just have something important to reveal.”

“As you all know, we’ve been playing as a four-man band for the past few gigs, even if we really _are_ meant to be five. To the fans who have been here since day one, I’m sorry but Kyoutani has left the group.” He solemnly gestures towards the space on his right, reserved for the guitarist, as the sound of soft gasps fill the venue. “His spot is not an easy one to fill, for sure, and so we’ve left it cold for a while. But _tonight—_ ”

The crowd roars at his sudden enthusiasm.

“—we’re going to change that. We’ve found someone who might just be able to take up the challenge and bring in the beat. So, without further ado, let’s give it up for the one and only Kageyama Tobio!”

The roars just get louder at that.

He turns towards the side, watching as Kageyama runs up to the light, a tiny smirk — he’s _smiling?_ — resting perfectly well on his face, complimenting his features in a way that made him look intimidating but likeable all the same. He raises the hand that isn’t holding onto his guitar, waving awkwardly at the crowd. The simple gesture causes them to go wild, wilder than they’ve ever been that night, if that was still even possible given how obnoxiously noisy they already were.

Oikawa had seen videos of Kageyama live, and for every clip, the brunette would pinpoint that there was something about the boy that was intriguing. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was exactly then, attributing it instead to the bad boy image the guitarist was expected to project. Now however, seeing his magic in person, it was clear what his secret was, evident in the way he didn’t hold himself back.

If the singer had a personality to turn on once he stepped onto the stage, the guitarist seemed to not need one at all.

He tries not to feel jealous.

“I need all of you to give him the proper welcome he deserves tonight!” the singer spoke into the microphone, a practiced smile on his face. “He’s going to stick around for a while, guys… so let’s make his first concert with us a memorable one.”

The audience collectively whooped at the words, the noise all dedicated to the new recruit.

At that, he looks at the band and gives a nod. Hinata starts it, drumming up a familiar beat, and soon the rest chime in, their instruments coming together to form a unified sound.

They’ve never sounded this good in ages.

It is this thought that lets him relax, allowing the music to take control.  
  


* * *

  
Kageyama felt good. Even if he was now drenched in sweat from their performance, the rush of adrenaline winding down to a calm that made him want to sleep, he still felt like he could take on the world if he wanted to, if he put his mind to it. That was the beauty of being in a band, rocking out alongside people who understood the craft, giving the audience a night to never forget. It made you feel infinite.

He missed this.

God, how much he missed this.

Despite the ringing in his ears caused by the exposure to high frequencies, Hinata was like a megaphone, voice loud and clear as he spoke, “Bakageyama, that was _amazing!_ I mean, I know you rock, but you _rocked_ it out there tonight. The crowd was crazy loud!”

“It was refreshing to hear our songs played the way they should be,” Iwaizumi followed up as he handed the guitarist a clean hand towel. “Oikawa always made a big deal about living up to our potential, and I feel like we did that tonight thanks to you.”

“We’re gonna go places with you on our side,” Sugawara added then, slapping a hand onto Kageyama’s back, which causes the latter to cough. “I knew you were a good choice! You really earned your spot on the band tonight.”

Oikawa simply watched them all, rolling his eyes. “No need to get dramatic.”

“Wow, that’s _rich_ coming from you, Trashykawa.”

“Thank you,” Kageyama cut in intensely before anyone could give out a retort, bowing deeper than he had ever before at the four, his body forming a perfect 90-degree angle. “Thank you for believing in me and giving me this opportunity. I hope to never let you guys down.”

And he meant that, with every fiber of his being. He wasn’t gonna waste this chance to start anew.

Watching his now-kouhai’s show of gratitude, the singer finds himself overcome with a mix of conflicting emotions. 

On one hand, Oikawa wanted to be mad. The boy had single-handedly upstaged him on the first night he ever joined their band live. Sure, he had the benefit of making a name for himself beforehand, but it just wasn’t fair. He made fame look easy and effortless, even when it isn’t and never will be, and if things remained this way, the brunette knew perfectly well that the talented boy would surpass him just as seamlessly. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he really wanted to spit the foul words out.

On the other hand, he knew that Kageyama wasn’t doing it on purpose. If anything, he felt like the awkward boy didn’t even know what he was doing. Seeing him now, looking as though his position in their group was a lifeline that had cured him from cancer, made it known that all he wanted to do was play on a stage again for a crowd of people who enjoyed music. The drive to dominate the charts was probably still in there, but right now, it looked as if performing live was enough.

Besides, Oikawa couldn’t deny the benefits. He heard with his own ears how amazing their set was. He saw just how much the fans appreciated every song. With someone like Kageyama on their team, someone with the prowess to stun the audience, they could become unstoppable. They could reach new heights, if he just learns to trust the rising star.

While the undercurrent of jealousy within him wasn’t new, already an integral part of the two’s interactions and the foundation of their relationship, the feeling was currently being overshadowed by the freshness of acceptance.

“Ah, damn it. I really want to hate you right now, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa muttered, ruffling the guitarist’s hair as he spoke with a tone akin to fondness, “but I can’t deny that tonight was amazing, and that’s all because of you.”

Kageyama stands back up and gapes, totally not expecting that. Everyone else seemed to be just as surprised.

The singer ignores their dumb expressions. “Since I’m feeling like a good senpai, I think we should celebrate. My treat! Is it too late for food?”

There is silence. For a moment, Oikawa fears that he just killed them with his kindness.

And then the chaos ensued.

“What in the world, where is the Oikawa I know?!” Iwaizumi remarks, stupefied, disregarding his best friend’s question in favor of calling out his change of heart. “Are you feeling sick? I told you not to overwork yourself before a gig, didn’t I?”

“Iwaizumi-san is right, you’re acting really suspicious,” Hinata agreed then, glaring up at the taller boy with an analytical gaze. “If you’re really Oikawa-san, and not just some doppelganger or clone, then answer this question: what is the top tier movie genre of all time?”

Oikawa squints at the ridiculousness of the two, slowly getting annoyed by it all.

Sensing the tension, Sugawara chimed in, “Guys, calm down. Maybe Oikawa’s just being nice for once.”

He released a breath. _Finally,_ he thought, _some support._ “Yeah, Koushi-chan’s—”

He spoke too soon. 

“But you know, it is odd for you to be this friendly, Oikawa. What gives?” the pianist followed up, cutting him off, expressing skepticism towards him.

It is then that Oikawa realizes just how much he hates his friends.

“You guys are so insulting!” he huffs, crossing his arms like a child. “The one time I try to be the bigger person; It’s like you all doubt I’m capable of being kind!”

“So your suggestion of having a celebration isn’t a joke?” Kageyama asks timidly, remaining cautious.

“No!”

The four members blink at him.

“Oh, for the love of milk bread, why am I stuck with you four?!” he complains aloud, mostly talking to himself, before facing the others with a sharp stare, cutting right to the chase. “Okay, so, food. Where can we get food at this time?”

Kageyama answers immediately, an expert in that category. “I know a place called Sakanoshita Store that closes late—”

“Ooh, they have really good meat buns!” Hinata chimed excitedly before the guitarist could finish his sentence, a shine in his eyes so bright it might as well have been daytime.

“If it makes Shrimpy so goddamn happy, I guess that’s where we’ll go,” Oikawa remarked tiredly, unsure why he was putting up with them or why he suggested this in the first place.

With hums of agreement, the band packed up their things and went on their way to celebrate, Oikawa’s savings splurged on idiots and their cravings.

He vows to never treat those fools out again, no matter the occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your time, lovelies! Leave your thoughts down below in the comments! Maybe a kudos and bookmark too if you haven't done that.
> 
> My writing has been going quite slowly recently because of Animal Crossing: New Horizons (it's truly addicting) so I'm sorry if next week's chapter comes late AHAHA but I promise I'll try to stick to the weekly update schedule.
> 
> If you have social media, feel free to talk to me! I'm on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/maeniac.exe/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ohhhmaegod).
> 
> (P.S. Did you like the little volleyball joke? I'm funny, right? ;w; heh.)


	6. Filling Up The Empty Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band decides it’s time to write and compose new music.

It was during a break on one of their regular practice sessions that Hinata blows a raspberry, seemingly bored out of his mind. At first, the others paid no mind to it, carrying on with their own business in silence, until the noise the ginger was causing just got too annoying to truly ignore.

“What is it, dumbass?” came Kageyama’s inquiry, spoken without looking up as the boy filed his fingernails to neatness.

“Our sets. They’re getting repetitive.”

The three original members look at the drummer like he’d grown a second head.

“Wh-What? It’s true! Don’t hate me,” the boy raised his hands defensively, drumsticks clattering to the floor.

Giving it further thought, Oikawa knew Hinata had a point. Soaring Glory has been together for three years now, and the last time they released a new song was around five months ago, one that was a single that didn’t precede or hint at an upcoming record. Their only album, their debut which was self-titled, also had been out for about a year and a half already. Sure, they had about one or two iconic songs from there that kept getting requested on the radio, but it was common knowledge that hits like that would die down eventually with time and changing trends. 

If they wanted to stay relevant and keep their spot under the public eye, they had to produce and create another bop — hell, maybe even a whole new record — that’ll keep them on the leaderboard of fame.

The singer sighed then. “Shou-chan’s right. We’ve exhausted all our songs.”

“I think they’re still good, Oikawa-san,” the guitarist piped.

He was quick to brush the comment aside. “That’s because you’ve only played ten shows with us thus far, Tobio-chan. Before you, we’ve probably had at least twelve more playing our current music, and then around fifteen when all we had was the EP.”

“Seventeen songs _is_ a pretty small selection,” Iwaizumi said matter-of-factly. “After that many live performances, shuffling through that amount is bound to get old.”

“Exactly!” the short member exclaimed, happy to get his point across. “It’s already old, so we should make new stuff.”

“You’re right!” Sugawara chimed in enthusiastically. “We’ll be able to integrate Kageyama more into the band too with another album.”

The implications of working on a record with the genius guitarist left a bad taste in Oikawa’s mouth.

He bites back the insults and complaints that come to mind, choosing to try his hardest not to be selfish for now. All his reservations for the new member needed to come second to the united effort they had to give to leave their mark in the music industry.

“So is this a unanimous decision?” he asked then, giving each of his bandmates a determined look.

The others nod in agreement, returning the spirited gaze.  
  


* * *

  
They all knew it wasn’t going to go smoothly. Forcing Oikawa and Kageyama into a single project was, after all, very much like asking for a death wish.

While the new member may have proven himself capable of fitting in on the stage and meshing with the band, successfully completing show after show since his debut as their official guitarist, it seems that he still had one hurdle to get past — working and collaborating smoothly with everyone, which included their overbearing lead.

Here’s the two reasons why there was never a reality wherein that endeavor led to seamless interactions and fight-free writing sessions:

One: it seemed to be part of Oikawa’s nature and genetic makeup to be an ass to Kageyama. If he wasn’t being rude or envious, then either something of great significance required more attention than their petty quarrels or he was feeling too unwell to bother at all. Their clash had become so routinely normal for everyone that even the victim of the spiteful words found it uncharacteristically odd when the retorts were gone. For the stubborn singer to suddenly become an angel during this process would be like seeing pigs fly.

Two: if the singer wasn’t going to intentionally become insufferable, the duo were already bound to clash anyway given their differences in stylistic decisions. They definitely had similarities given the fact that they played the same instruments (their guitar melodies complemented each other when they performed live) and had the same experience (Kageyama was formerly a frontman himself), but that didn’t mean that they’d agree to anything the other would suggest, nor did it mean that they’d hear the idea out. Their perspectives and visions for the album were far too unalike for that to happen, and both of them had large enough egos to refuse to back down and relent to the other without first picking a fight.

So yeah, there was no way in hell, heaven, or Earth that their album planning would be, in any way, easy.

You could say the trio who’d been listening to their bickering for almost half the day were disappointed but not surprised.

“For the last time, Tobio-chan, no one wants to listen to your grunge crap,” Oikawa ranted, delirious, arms flailing around in exasperation. “Being emo is _clearly_ just a phase for a majority of people. If we brand ourselves that way, we’d lose more than gain!”

“Your pop is garbage, too, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama argued, seemingly passive and tame; however, his irritation manifested itself in the narrowing of sharp blue eyes. “I mean, do you really want to sound so _basic,_ like a carbon copy of every other track on the radio?”

“First of all, I said _retro_ pop music, which is _different_ from just pop,” the brunette explained, seething in annoyance and offense. “Second, how _dare_ you call me basic! I would never, in my life, be associated with _that_ word, you hear me? And lastly, who said anything about being a copycat? We’re obviously musicians, Tobio-chan, which means we are _capable_ of putting our _own twist_ into mainstream things.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” the guitarist countered. “Retro pop, even with our own unique take on the genre, is still mainstream.”

“Just because everyone else is suddenly doing it doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. If anything, it should be an indication that it _sells_ to the market.”

“Selling to the market isn’t the only sign of success.”

“Ironic of you to say that, king,” the singer barks with bite and spite, “since that _was_ your scale back then, wasn’t it?”

Kageyama’s glare intensifies at the nickname and the comment, and it is as if the two were only millimeters away from exploding.

At the sight of their newcomer’s twitch of intense anger and gritting teeth, one that multiplied his terror factor tenfold, the three boys who had listened on knew they had to intervene.

“You’re both such idiots! Quit trying to tear each other apart!”

All heads turn towards Hinata at his sudden outburst, honey brown eyes glazed with a severe look that came by extremely rarely from the boy who seemed to glow with sunlight all the time. It makes both Oikawa and Kageyama flinch, knowing well that they were the cause of it.

The drummer takes the involuntary action as a sign to keep speaking. “You’re both part of the same band, remember? So why are you acting like competitors? Why are you arguing about whose concept is better instead of working to find a compromise?”

He pauses a moment, letting his questions sink in, before ending the speech with a sentence that stuns the two to silence.

“You might both be kings, but you rule _one_ kingdom, which means you have to rule _together_ even if it’s hard.”

The air is heavy for a moment after, silence stretching out uncomfortably long as the words still ring in their minds, settling its weight like a slap to their faces. Oikawa and Kageyama can’t help but gape at the shorter boy who suddenly had the guts to scold them, genuinely shocked by his actions. It is during this pause that Hinata’s intimidating gaze suddenly shifts to one of surprise as he registered their bewildered expressions, his cheeks suddenly flushing with redness at the realization of what he had just done.

The return to normalcy breaks the tension.

“You stole the words out of my mouth, Hinata,” Iwaizumi remarked like a proud father of sorts, ruffling the shorter boy’s hair. “I didn’t even think you had it in you to talk like that.”

“Neither did I,” the boy simply squeaked, bashfully resting a spare hand on his nape.

“The timing of that was perfect too,” Sugawara chimed in. “Had you been a second later, Soaring Glory would’ve surely disbanded. I mean, look at them.”

The pianist gestured towards the once quarreling duo, who were now both in their own states of scowling and pouting. 

Kageyama had his arms crossed over his chest, blue eyes downcast and mouth in a tight frown, looking eerily like his normal intimidating self even when he was boiling in anger. Meanwhile, Oikawa was grumbling, probably ranting to himself in silence, his usually affable face contorted to a look of annoyance the band was heavily familiar with. Neither one of them would glance at each other, nor at anyone else in the band, and the sight was amusing for the trio who watched. It was like they were babysitters scolding two children who had been arguing on whose turn it was on the swing in the park.

“They’re really stupid, aren’t they?” the bassist remarked exasperatedly but fondly at the same time. “You’d think one of them would choose to be mature, but no, they’re both extremely stubborn.”

“So what do we do?” the drummer asked aloud. “How do we calm them down?”

Sugawara gave his answer not in the form of a verbal response, but rather in the form of taking action. 

“Kageyama! Oikawa!” the grey-haired boy called out, pointing an index finger at the two respectively. 

They looked up from their sulking.

 _Big babies,_ the pianist mused with fondness, before speaking with a warm and calming voice, “You both need to take a time out. If we keep this meeting going the way it has been for the last couple of minutes, we might not get anywhere near done. Cool off your heads and come back in five minutes.”

It was Kageyama who stepped out first, bowing slightly in a silent apology before he departed, ever so respectful. Moments after, Oikawa begrudgingly left, taking his phone and earphones with him.

The three remaining members let out a breath then, all entering their own various states of relaxation, making the most of their five minute break to muster up the patience they knew they’d need.  
  


* * *

  
When the two had returned, Kageyama with a milk box in hand (probably from a hallway vending machine) and Oikawa smiling at ease (probably because of his social media boost), their planning session resumed.

“So,” the lead clapped, taking the reins once again now that he wasn’t a ticking time bomb, “let’s get back to business. How do we want this album to sound?”

“You know my perspective, Oikawa-san,” the guitarist nonchalantly supplied, poking his straw into the carton.

“And you also know mine, Tobio-chan,” was his answer, directing his attention onto the raven-haired boy. “But I think it’s time we hear out everyone else’s take, right? We were too busy being idiots— well, mostly you, but you know what I mean.” 

“You’re really not the kind to take the blame, aren’t you?”

“Does it really matter?” he hummed, waving his hand in the air dismissively. “The moment’s over now after all.”

“Well, it can’t hurt you to lower your pride every once in a while.”

“You little—” he starts, before catching himself and taking a deep breath so as not to start another fight. Resentfully, he spat, “Alright, fine. We were both equally dumb. Happy?”

The shit-eating look on the younger boy’s face said enough.

“Anyway,” he resumed with an eye roll, turning towards the others. “What I’m trying to say is that we were stupid for forcing our ideas onto you guys and forgetting to consider that we’re a five-man band, which meant an addition of three opinions to sort through.”

“What exactly are you insinuating?” Iwaizumi remarked.

“I’m saying that I’m open to suggestions,” Oikawa answered. “And I’m assuming that Tobio-chan is now too.”

Kageyama nodded at that, the first agreement shared between them, before turning towards the trio with a look that said he was listening. The singer mirrored his expression wholeheartedly, no malice in his chocolate brown gaze.

It was extremely amusing to see the sudden change. The trio couldn’t help but share a look.

Hinata was the first to speak then. “Well, we’ve been a pop-centered band for the whole of our career. I kinda feel like we’ve outdone that genre already.”

“So you favor Tobio’s grunge rock?”

“Well, yeah. That’d be fun to drum. I mean, can you imagine?!”

Oikawa clicked his tongue. “Simpletons.”

“I thought you were gonna be open-minded!” the drummer retorted with a huff.

“I am! I am! Just teasing,” he replied with a smile, before moving onto the next band member. “Iwa-chan, how about you?”

“I think pop’s safe enough as it is. It’s what we’re known for,” Iwaizumi commented. “If we did retro pop, we would both be exploring a new sound while sticking to our roots.”

“If we stay safe, we won’t reach any further than we’ve gotten,” Hinata retorted before anyone could react. “I mean, can you imagine the new crowds we’d attract with a new genre? We’d fly so high.”

“But why would we search for a new audience when we already have one? Why not grow this one instead?” the bassist answered back. “It’d be better to cater to the fans we already have, since they’re already familiar with our music and our name.”

“We wouldn’t get _that_ far staying here!”

“You’re not even sure if we’d get far with rock music, Hinata.”

The boy was about to send another quip back but decided against it instead, choosing to hold his tongue. In the silence, he stared inquisitively at the bassist for a moment, brows creased in what looked to be baffled confusion, before all of the sudden jumping backwards as all life seemed to drain from his face.

The look of horror prompts the bassist to speak. “What is it?”

“W-We’re turning… into them,” was the murmured reply.

He stared at his bandmate.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed then, his own demeanor darkening to match that of the drummer’s. “You’re right.”

Before the two could spiral further, Oikawa cut in. “As sweet as it is for Iwa-chan to take my side, we’ve only gone back to square one! God, at this rate, we’d get nothing done.”

“Sugawara-san hasn’t said anything yet,” Kageyama supplied helpfully. “Maybe he can break the tie?”

The vocalist turned to the grey-haired boy with a pleading look in his eyes. “Please, Koushi-chan. End our misery and choose a side.”

Sugawara, who had been relatively silent about the topic at hand, watched the hopeful and expectant expressions blossom on everyone’s faces. In that moment, he was suddenly made aware of the weight they placed on his shoulders, the decision on the direction of their sound riding on his answer.

As the soothing bandmate, he knew he had to think of this carefully so as not to cause any more conflicts within the group. He had to come up with a compromise, one that wouldn’t favor one side more than the other.

Before panic could overtake him, a stellar idea suddenly came to mind.

He beamed as he suggested it. “What if we just merge them?”

The four others blinked up at him like he’d told them to lay golden eggs.

“It’s not that much of a reach, guys,” he said with a light-hearted laugh. “There have been several bands known for playing multiple genres in a single album that it’s said to be difficult to categorize them under a specific umbrella term. Despite that, or maybe even _because_ of that, they gained a stable following that helped them stay recognized. I think that’s just the proof we need to say that it’s doable.”

“You know what?” Oikawa answered slowly, sounding as though he was somewhat convinced. “You’re onto something.”

“Wouldn’t retro pop clash with grunge rock, though?” Iwaizumi questioned.

“I think we can make it work,” was the calm answer from the reliable pianist. “We’re a band of talented individuals. We have what it takes.”

“I’m sold!” Hinata beamed. “That opens up so many avenues for us!”

“I agree with the dumbass,” Kageyama voiced out after a long sip of his milk. “We could do a lot with this, which allows us more variety in sound. It’ll be good for our shows.”

“Well, alright,” the bassist relented, an easygoing smile on his face. “Everyone seems motivated. Let’s do it.”

“Yes! Finally! One thing settled,” Oikawa exclaimed with a grin, arms on his hips as he posed in a power stance. Everyone else on the band mirrored his exhilaration through the subtlest of shifts in their expressions, genuinely thrilled to get something accomplished after a gruelling session of rejected proposals and unrelenting rebuttals.

Shame that it was still too early to fully celebrate. There were still a hundred things left to do.

“Now for the next agenda: our album title.”

The guitarist was quick to speak up, eyes bright with inspiration as he replied, “We could go with—”

His senpai cut him off before he could complete his sentence, killing his spark as quick as it had appeared. “I swear, if something stupid comes out of your mouth now, Tobio-chan, you’ll get suspended from the band.”

“You didn’t even let me finish, Oikawa-san!”

When the singer went to retort, their back and forth arguments resumed. And while it was irking to listen to their trivial petty disputes again, words often mostly empty and revolving in looping circles, the others knew this was just part of their process. The two stubborn boys would have more agreements to come; they just had to fight it out first before then.

Despite the clash, they’ll figure it out. And when they do, it’ll all fall perfectly into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ya, here's the update! Comment down below pls, I love hearing from you guys :) also bookmark + leave a kudos if you haven't yet.
> 
> If you wanna fangirl about Oikage and Haikyuu!! with me, hmu on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ohhhmaegod) and/or [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/maeniac.exe/). Let's be friends!
> 
> Ngl I kinda struggled writing this chapter HAHA. It just didn't sit right with me?? if that makes sense. I also don't know if their talk about genres makes sense :") RIP. I do hope that you enjoyed this nevertheless and it's just me being an insecure loser lmao.
> 
> Also, little PSA: The events of this fic aren't directly connected that Chapter B happens right after Chapter A (like, in a "Next day" sense). It might have seemed that way for the previous chaps bc I was still introducing Kags into the story but moving forward, I hope you keep this lil reminder in mind. Most chapters will probably have their own separate prompt, but everything's still linear and linked; they still exist in the same universe, still following the same protagonists, and all that.
> 
> Is that clear? I'm sorry if it isn't :") I just wanted to explain this for more context.


	7. Another Name Goes Up In Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa shares the results of his in-depth Kageyama-centric research to his firm-yet-caring best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This can also be known as the indulgent 5k-word chapter in which Oikawa is obsessively jealous of Kageyama (as usual) while Iwaizumi is just So Done™.

Ever since the fanfare surrounding the guitarist’s addition to Soaring Glory had died down, most people would argue that things have returned to normal. 

After a significant amount of live performances together, he was just no longer this fresh new thing the band had going on, no longer much of a surprise for their most loyal fans. During gigs, Oikawa would now be the last to step out like he always had before their announcement. Their sets would now always start with a song like it usually did instead of a speech. The crowds would still scream loudly in every show, excitement filling them to the brim, but never _just_ because of the appearance of a newcomer. Instead of the initial shock he was often met with, the raven-haired boy seemed to have been officially welcomed and integrated into his position as the fifth member, cementing his permanence with the group.

And with that acceptance came the normalcy that they were familiar with, the hype dying down and settling into a steady flow. Their days together now felt closely similar to the times before, save for the additional presence that added flavor to their mix.

However, Oikawa knew better than to be complacent.

When it came to Kageyama, the ever-so-competitive singer knew he could never let his guard down. In fact, this was probably the best time and opportunity to be observant and do his research. Since the genius was extremely close by, it was easier to be on the lookout while gaining instantaneous feedback and immediate results.

It is because of this attitude that he notices the smallest of changes and minor differences in the band’s dynamic with their audience, all of which sway him to believe that things were definitely _not_ back to normal.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa hummed suddenly, back pressed against the floor of the spiky-haired boy’s bedroom, brown eyes glued to the blank ceiling in thought.

At the lack of a response, he moved to prop himself up on his elbow and look at his friend.

Seemingly disinterested (or maybe just too distracted by the task at hand), Iwaizumi kept his attention on his notebook and bass guitar, strumming up a variety of chord variations to complement the composed lyrics formulated by the brunette, written within the pages in loopy cursive. 

It was sweet of the boy to be taking this so seriously, but Oikawa just couldn’t ignore the deductions he’s made in his head.

“Iwa-chaaan,” he whined, louder this time.

The soft and deep notes floating in the air halt abruptly. 

He finds that he’s met with a glare from olive green eyes. “This better be important, Oikawa.”

“It is!” he exclaimed before sitting up fully. “I’m just wondering, doesn’t anything feel _off_ to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, don’t you think there’s something different in the band?”

The bassist stops to think about it. With a shake of his head, he eventually replied, “No.”

“Really?” he answered. “You don’t see it?”

“What am I even supposed to see?” he asked back, tone denoting impatience.

Oikawa cut to the chase then. “Well, based on my recent observations, I’ve come to the conclusion that Tobio-chan has been slowly stealing the spotlight.”

A pause.

“I _warned_ you all that this would happen!” he added for good measure.

“Are you fucking serious, Assikawa?” came the exasperated reply. “You’re interrupting our songwriting for this bullshit?”

“I’m not being delusional Iwa-chan, I swear!” he said in defense. “He’s just catching so much attention — even more than _me,_ your favorite handsome singer — that it’s starting to get concerning. I mean, can you even believe it? Tobio-chan?!”

“He’s in our band! It shouldn’t be concerning because he’s giving _us_ fans!”

“But—”

“Why can’t you just quit being a jealous ass for once in your life?” Iwaizumi remarked with a sigh. “Seriously, it’s like you’ve regressed back to four years ago. I was getting used to not hearing you complain anymore.”

“It’s not the same as that! You just don’t understand,” he said with a pout, folding his arms over his chest like a child.

“Fine.” He carefully put his bass aside, offering his undivided attention. “Make me.”

Oikawa accepted the challenge.  
  


* * *

  
The first time he noticed was the first time they stopped giving the introductory announcement.

Despite the band not having discussed the lineup of grand entrances beforehand — it didn’t seem to be a pressing issue anyway (except for Oikawa, of course) — the decision that Kageyama would be fourth still seemed unanimous. Beyond the fact that Kyoutani also exited backstage second to the last when he was still a member, none of the others really wanted to switch up the order any more than necessary, far too used to how things already were to make adjustments.

Besides, it’s not like the guitarist cared about placements. It was clear in his single-minded determination that all he wanted to do was play.

The singer still taunted him anyway, treating their final arrangement as his victory.

“How does it feel being put in your place, Tobio-chan?” he teased, grinning wide as brown eyes met blue. “Your glory days of stealing _my_ show are finally over.”

“We’re in the same band, Oikawa-san,” remarked the younger boy.

“Did Iwa-chan tell you to say that?” he huffed in reply, before shaking his head disapprovingly. “I can’t believe his stupid influence has rubbed on my pure kouhai. It’s not cute.”

“I’m not trying to be cute,” came the indignant answer, accompanied with a pout that definitely _was_ cute.

The brunette ignored his statement (and his face) completely, moving to pick up his guitar before returning to the main point of their conversation. “Since the natural order of things has returned, and I am now back in the center of attention where I belong, you actually get the chance to have _another_ lesson from your favorite senpai!”

“Really?” he questioned with a small tilt of his head, interest piqued ever so slightly.

“Mhm,” came the self-satisfied hum. “Welcome to Stage Presence 101, Tobio. First topic of the day: making an entrance the professional way.”

Whatever excitement Kageyama had for Oikawa’s so-called ‘lesson’ fizzled out instantly. The guitarist even had the audacity to turn away and move on, walking off towards Hinata.

“Hey, don’t act so disappointed! You’re lucky to even witness my greatness at stunning the crowd,” he squawked. “In fact, you should probably take some notes and pointers from my performance later. Your stage game is embarrassingly mediocre.”

“He’s already stopped listening, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi spoke with a laugh, wearing a smug grin. “He clearly doesn’t care.”

“Oh, shut up!”

When the moment passes, the time to step out eventually came.

As usual, Hinata exits first, running up to his drum kit with an energy that adds to the crowd’s enthusiasm, the camera crew following his movements. Upon landing in his seat, the animated boy started to hit his drumsticks together in a way that made their band’s loyal followers yell “One… two… one, two, three, go!” in time with the beat, already expecting the maneuver.

When the steady rhythm of drums began to play shortly after, Iwaizumi took the stage as the second in their lineup. He strode out into the limelight calmly, wearing a distinctive beaming smile that made the fans holler when it was broadcasted on the big screens. He plucked his chords with ease once he took his place, the deep thrum of his bass syncing in smoothly with the starting melody.

Sugawara then followed suit, the grey-haired sweetheart jogging out with a pleasant smile and finger hearts pointed towards the camera, effectively eliciting more eager screams. As soon as he approached his keyboard set up on the stage, his fingers danced elegantly through the black and white keys, his notes blending well with the other instruments and allowing the piece they formed to grow more elaborate than it had been.

The next part is where things start to become new. 

It wasn’t much of a change for Oikawa, to be totally honest. They were just reverting back to their intro piece when Kyoutani was still present and on time for gigs. His initial cue would now be given to Kageyama, a simple shift of a piano key, while he’d now have to rely on the boy’s guitar playing to know when it was his time to appear.

However, the story was different for Kageyama. He’d never done an entrance this way before.

That didn’t mean the high-caliber genius was going to mess up, though. 

The moment the duo remaining backstage heard the sign through their earpieces, the boy’s practiced hands began to strum along to the music, adding his own stylistic riffs into their tune. He hadn’t even stepped out into the audience’s view yet, and already the horde was squealing with vigor at the mere sound of a guitar.

“What are you doing?!” Oikawa muttered in an indignant whisper, not quite used to having a member lag behind. 

The younger boy whispered back, “Making an entrance the professional way.”

The singer felt offended and violated in every way possible.

He didn’t have the time to retaliate at the taunt however, because his bandmate had the nerve to finally step out of the shadows at that very second, sparing no room for a reaction to the mocking statement he left in his wake.

All he could do instead was watch as the newcomer stole his shine yet again, the booming volume of cheers possibly matching the kind the lead would receive on a regular day.

What made it all the more infuriating was the fact that he wasn’t even doing anything special like the other members had done. He had no cutesy gestures, charming smiles, or engaging quirks to enthrall the audience with; not even the awkward wave and cheeky little grin he gave during his debut. This time, he only wore his stupid signature scowl as piercing blue eyes stayed glued onto his guitar in full attention, walking out casually to his side as if he ruled the stage.

It pissed Oikawa off to no end. How _dare_ he.

But then the specific chord he had to look out for came, and he knew then there was no room to be angry.

He’ll just have to win the show back with his limitless allure. 

He decides to take his time, stalking out with an irresistible smirk that gains him a thunderous roar of excitement. Playfully, he keeps his eyes locked on the camera as he approaches the center, making sure that they were pointed directly at his face and following his every move. Once he was faced with his trusty microphone, he didn’t hold onto it and start singing like he normally would. Instead, he licked his lips slowly and bewitchingly, high-quality footage of the action live on the two screens, successfully causing a deafening eruption from the crowd.

The whoops and hollers weren’t enough, however.

No matter how loud and cacophonous the audience was in reaction to his teasing tactics, he realized almost immediately how the screams he caused were relatively _close_ in volume to Kageyama’s own; the adoration he received was only one or two decibels higher than that of the guitarist’s.

Despite being the one on top, this revelation was strikingly alarming. Kageyama Tobio was catching up to him, practically breathing down his neck.

He couldn’t have that. He had to go further.

He had to burn bright before the glare of his rival’s light could outshine his.  
  


* * *

  
“I’m surprised you had time to even think of this bullshit during a concert, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi stated plainly.

“That’s not the takeaway you’re supposed to have from that!” Oikawa complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want my support?” was the sarcastic response he received. 

Ignoring his best friend’s tone, he answered honestly, “Yes!”

“Well too bad! I can’t give you that when this whole stupid issue revolves around you being a petty dumbass.”

“How is this me being petty?” he squawked. “No one in my history of performing has ever matched me like that, you know? It’s really concerning to think that Tobio-chan’s able to do that, even after his whole hiatus!”

“Okay, now that’s the most vain thing to ever leave your mouth. Sugawara, Hinata, and I are here too, remember?” the bassist replied.

“Oh please, you know I’m speaking the truth!” he hummed with a smug smile.

The other scowled. “I swear, if this is really how you plan to form your argument, I’m kicking you out of my house.”

“Eh? I’m not even finished, Iwa-chan. That’s like, the tip of the iceberg!”

“Fuck,” he murmured dejectedly, body sagging as he slouched. “There’s goddamn more.”

“You wanted to be convinced, right?” the brunette beamed, still invigorated. “Well, make sure to sit tight because I have a whole collection of stories to say.”

“When have you ever ran out of shit to say?”

“Iwa-chan!”

The boy waved his hand dismissively, prompting him to resume. “Just get on with it.”

So he did.  
  


* * *

  
The band used to have a tradition of meeting fans after a gig. 

At first, when they were still fresh in the music scene, it had only been Oikawa who’d step out from the venue’s backdoor to enter the dimly lit street where some concertgoers lingered, greeting the few remaining attendees with a charming smile that instantly made them stand from their place on the pavement to get a chance to talk, hug, or take a selfie with him. But as the months passed and more live shows filled up the day-to-day of their careers, the others began to join him too, growing comfortable and open to the idea. 

It was Sugawara who got roped in the earliest, curious as to why the brunette would _always_ do it for all of their shows. When he experienced the thrill of meeting as many people as he could firsthand, the sweet boy then dragged Hinata with them, knowing that the friendly drummer would enjoy the face-to-face interactions too. Finally, because he was one of the only remaining members who didn’t participate in the charade, Iwaizumi hesitantly came along with them, slowly then growing accustomed to the norm.

By this time, it had become a routine, like a regular impromptu meet-and-greet that they shared only with the most loyal of their followers, ones who’d know to wait long enough outside for their presence to show up. However, when they began to play for larger crowds in bigger venues, their name gaining more traction, the frequent visits had to be put to a temporary end. They were no longer permitted by their handler to hold the meetings, having to prioritize the safety of both themselves and their adoring fans.

That didn’t mean that they didn’t miss it. That didn’t mean that they didn’t want to do it again.

“I have a gut feeling,” Oikawa prompted one day after a gig, getting up from his seated position and heading near the dressing room’s exit, “that the lot of you are thinking what I’m thinking.”

(Of course they were; they shared a single brain cell after all.)

“We can’t, and you know it,” came Iwaizumi’s reaction after a long sip of water.

“But we want to,” Hinata answered with a sparkle in his eyes, jumping up with enthusiasm and directing his bright begging gaze towards the bassist. “We really _really_ want to.”

“I mean, maybe we can just this once? For old time’s sake?” Sugawara said in support of the other two, a small grin on his face as he moved to stand beside the singer.

Decidedly outnumbered, the spiky-haired boy who was usually the voice of reason eventually relented with a sigh. “Alright, fine. Just this once.”

Kageyama blinked up at them, completely and utterly clueless.

“W-Wait, where are you guys going?” he mumbled immediately, throwing his hand towel aside and standing up himself as he watched his bandmates all simultaneously head towards the door.

“Oh! Kageyama!” the ginger exclaimed in reply, as though just having remembered his presence entirely. “Join us!”

“For what?”

“It’s a thing we used to do,” the pianist supplied helpfully. “We’d meet with fans after our performances just outside the venue.”

“Does Shimizu-san know?” he inquired tentatively in doubt, yet he was already moving to tag along.

“Doesn’t matter, Tobio-chan,” the brunette singsonged, turning the doorknob and leading them out. “Just come along now before she _does_ find out.”

He stopped asking questions then.

When they’re met with the cool air of the late night breeze and the orange lights that illuminated the street, what Oikawa notices first is the amount of people who remain. Despite them having halted their after-show meet-ups, there were still a decent amount of hopeful supporters who lounged around. It warmed his heart to think they were still anticipating these, even when it’s been a long while since the last.

“Hey guys!” beamed Hinata with his ever-so-brash voice as he ran past the singer, grinning widely and waking the fans to life.

At this moment, the makeshift meet-and-greet began.

Everything seemed to go by swimmingly, each bandmate surrounded by their own manageable circle, easygoing conversations and genuine joy flowing smoothly through the atmosphere. If not for the fact that this specific session was meant to be secret (management was gonna kill them if they found out) and that they now had the additional presence of Kageyama (Kyoutani never bothered joining them when he was still part), watching all the interactions go down while having a fair share of his own would have felt sweetly nostalgic for the frontman who started it all.

 _Speaking of Kageyama,_ he thought then, gaze flitting towards the hoard that enveloped the boy in question.

Of course, like all things related to his kouhai, the sight undoubtedly makes him frown.

In contrast to the singer’s crowd, the amount of people who surrounded the guitarist was practically the same in number, almost equal in size. Meanwhile, on the topic of the balance of genders (because yes, it _definitely_ matters), it looked like there were much more females in his circle than males, all of which were smiling up at him flirtatiously, batting their eyelashes with vigor, and giving him a look that Oikawa was heavily familiar with.

It really shouldn’t have bothered him given the fact that Kageyama Tobio was a lost cause at social interactions, which meant there was barely any competition here, but he knew awkward messes had their own cute appeal. 

_Do they really have to be_ that _obvious about their fawning? God!_

“Oikawa-san? Is everything alright?” a timid girl mumbles softly, her voice shaking him out of his stupor.

“Ah, sorry,” he replied sheepishly, resorting back to his pleasing charm. “I got distracted. Did you want an autograph?”

And just like that, he resumed to put on a show, making sure to steel himself and keep his thoughts away from an increasingly annoying bandmate, pushing his observations to the back of his mind for further study later.  
  


* * *

  
“I’m starting to doubt that your obsession over Kageyama is one born of jealousy. If anything, it sounds like you’re jealous of the fangirls, not him,” Iwaizumi remarked teasingly, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Wh-What?!” he stuttered incredulously, cheeks turning a darker shade of pink, before then flipping his best friend off. “Oh, screw you!”

“You gotta be careful about flaunting your sexuality around like that. The fans don’t know you’re bi, remember?”

“I’m not flaunting my sexuality, nor am I into Tobio-chan. Seriously, the mere _thought_ of us together is repulsive! Nasty! Gross!” he spits out, shivering for emphasis.

“Okay, fine. Let’s say you _don’t_ like Kageyama,” the bassist mutters with a laugh. “We still have to acknowledge the fact that _he_ distracted _you_ from your _fans._ Now that’s something special.”

He narrowed his brown eyes. “I didn’t ask to be mocked, Iwa-chan.”

“Well, you can’t deny how hilarious you sound,” he answered then, taking a more serious tone as he spoke. “Seriously, the fans are just being fans! I’m sure those girls also eventually went to you for a picture.”

“Instead of vouching for the opposing party, could you please take my points into consideration for once? It’s not fair!” he huffed with a pout, crossing his arms in the process. “And you have the guts to call yourself _my_ friend.”

“Hey, I _am_ your friend, which is why I’m gonna whip your ass whenever you’re being stupid,” came the retort. “I mean, is this really worth your time? It’s starting to sound a lot like your dumb conspiracy theories.”

“My conspiracies are _not_ dumb!”

“We’re wasting so much time,” he complained then with a groan. “This is going in fucking circles.”

“It wouldn’t be if you just listened!” he shot back dramatically in return. “These are _facts_ I’m giving you, and they all prove that Tobio’s—”

“—a brilliant showman, a gifted guitarist, and a great bandmate,” Iwaizumi cut in, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, that’s all wrong!” 

“Are you done with your narratives?” he remarked with a sigh, exasperated. “Because I really would like to get back to work now, Crappykawa.”

“I have one more story,” the brunette answered. “Hear that out and I promise to shut up and return to songwriting.”

Iwaizumi sent him a sharp stare. “You better keep that promise.”  
  


* * *

  
All he wanted was a relaxing way to start his day.

When he decided to check Twitter while on the walk to their studio, he’d expected the fanfare online to help pump himself up for another gruesome session of album planning with his group, giving him enough of a kick that not even a good cup of brewed coffee could supply. His feed was often full of good things anyway, a mix of Soaring Glory memes, live performance compilations, fangirls asking him for his attention (yes, he enjoys that), conspiracy threads, and heavy discussions on aliens and their existence.

What he didn’t expect and didn’t ask for was Kageyama Tobio to be _trending._

He definitely had to get down to the bottom of this.

In his investigation, he finds himself met with a bunch of quote tweets singing praises to the boy who had yet to even rejoin this social media platform, all leading him to some nondescript press account that had tweeted a link to their article about the guitarist. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he first read the awful headline.

> **Rockstar Kageyama Tobio is This Year’s Latest Boy Crush** **  
> **highlight-mag.com.jp

Even when he felt like puking right then and there, he clicked onto the article anyway, his need to know getting the better of him.

“You look like you’ve just eaten a whole lemon, Oikawa,” was the first greeting he received when he stepped into the studio, graced with the presence of their soft pianist. “What’s up?”

“Shou-chan’s not here yet?” he asked instead of answering, shifting the conversation onto a different topic while relaxing his facial expression to hide his disgust. “Isn’t he usually first?”

“No, the early bird hasn’t arrived,” came the reply. “He did say something about racing with Kageyama though, so maybe that’s why.”

“Oh, good. Maybe Tobio-chan will be too exhausted to oppose me this time around,” he hummed coolly, taking a seat on an equipment box.

“That’s just wishful thinking. You know they’re fountains of energy,” Sugawara remarked with fondness, taking his own phone from the floor and unplugging the charger cord before moving to sit next to the brunette.

“Um, what are you doing, Koushi-chan?”

“Just because you’re acting all okay now, doesn’t mean I’m forgetting how repulsed you looked earlier,” he responded knowingly, hazel brown eyes peering into Oikawa’s phone. “What are you even reading?”

He stretched his hand away instantly, keeping the device as far as possible from the prying bandmate. “Okay, that’s just rude. I still have personal space and boundaries, you know? I could have been having a private conversation!”

“Is it fanfiction? Is that why you’re so bothered?” he pressed on, ignoring the retaliation.

“What? No!”

“Well, it can’t be a text or a DM. I saw a white background and paragraphs of sentences.”

“Ugh, fine! You win,” he exclaimed, handing his mobile over. “I’m reading a stupid article on Tobio from some entertainment magazine.”

“And why are you doing that?” Sugawara inquired in amusement while he scrolled the page back to the top, skimming over the cheesy headline written in blaring bold letters.

“Because he’s trending locally on Twitter and I have to know why.”

“Wait, Kageyama’s trending on Twitter?!”

“Yes, and it’s all because of that ugly piece of writing,” he spat out, gesturing towards the screen.

“You get articles just as bad written up about you all the time,” the grey-haired boy mentioned with a laugh. “This isn’t any different.”

“I do not,” he retorted. “Of course mine are much better.”

“So does that one article that went on and on about your _‘ravishingly good looks, windswept luscious brown hair, and bright handsome smile that could capture the heart of any girl’_ count as better?” he responded teasingly, reciting the direct quotation from his memory as theatrically as he could.

“God, did Iwa-chan show you that wreck?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone else! Not even Makki or Mattsun.”

The pianist kept going, ignoring the complaints entirely. “My favorite part from that would have to be the moment they began rambling about your _‘skilled fingers’._ I know they were referring to your guitar talent but man did _that_ sound wrong.”

“Koushiii!” he whined, covering his reddening face. “This is abuse.”

Sugawara simply gave him a cheeky grin, before returning his attention to the device within his fingertips.

“You know, I’m not even done with that myself, so if you could kindly hand my phone back now, that’d be great,” Oikawa prompted then.

“Nuh-uh!” he answered, eyes glued onto the words. “Let me read.”

“We can read together?” the brunette tried.

And so they did.

The urge to vomit returned again as soon as it was over.

Sure, it took no more than three minutes to complete, and it wasn’t exactly filled with vivid descriptions and horrible wording, but he just couldn’t comprehend how the public deemed his awkward and dumb kouhai as someone who could be called hot and attractive. According to the article, he had _‘captivating blue eyes’_ and a _‘mysterious bad boy aura’_ that apparently was _‘sexy’,_ and that was enough to dub him as the _‘fresh face of the year’_ and put him under the proximity of the _‘hot guy radar’._

Okay, so maybe there _was_ a couple of terrible phrasing.

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Sugawara remarked dismissively, seemingly unaffected by the text. “It’s not like they said anything too cringy.”

“You’re joking, right?” he squawked in disbelief.

“Not at all. It just doesn’t beat yours.”

“Well, fine, but when it comes to content, this article reeks of lies,” he ranted. “Like, come on, why would Tobio-chan be the latest hot thing of the year?” 

“As a gay guy, I could see it,” the pianist answered nonchalantly. “If he’s trending, the rest of our fanbase sees it too.”

“You’re _taken._ ”

“I didn’t say I would date him,” he replied instantly with his sweet sugary smile. “I’m just saying that Kageyama has looks.”

“Okay, but are his looks better than mine?” the singer questioned.

“Is this what this was all about?”

Yes, it was.

The enchanting lead vocalist prided himself in his attractiveness; he was the paragon of beauty and charm, after all. Beyond his smooth voice and guitar technique, his aesthetics and natural features were among his greatest assets that helped him keep his fame, giving him an edge against most performers.

If even _that_ can be stolen away by the boy who was annoyingly gifted in every way possible, then all of the singer’s biggest strengths would become useless and ineffective. There would be nothing left for him to take.

Oikawa would be thrown off the pedestal, wholly replaced.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Koushi-chan,” he hummed in false innocence, keeping his reflections to himself. 

Before the pianist could even respond further, the door was suddenly slammed open by a panting and sweaty Kageyama, followed shortly after by Hinata who seemed to be in the same boat.

“Speak of the devil,” came the cheeky whisper. “Do you think he’d like to know what you were up to?”

At that, the frontman immediately closed the website’s tab, making sure to hide all evidence. “Over my beautiful dead body.”  
  


* * *

  
“I’m not sorry for telling Sugawara about your article,” Iwaizumi said plainly as soon as the tale was over, “nor am I sorry for sending the link to Hinata, Sawamura, Hanamaki, _and_ Matsukawa.”

“What the hell? Them too?!” Oikawa practically yelled, affronted. “God, I thought— Agh, that’s not the point!”

“Glad to know you’re okay with that.”

“I am not!” he retaliated. “We _will_ talk about that another day. Right now, we have to focus on Tobio-chan.”

“Yeah, because it’s not like we haven’t been doing that for the last couple of hours,” came the sarcastic reply.

The vocalist neglected his best friend’s tone, keeping up with his laments. “The article is _hard proof_ that he’s climbing his way up the ladder of fame, Iwa-chan! Hottie of the year? Of all people, why couldn’t it have been _me_ instead?”

“If I recall your story correctly, it’s not _‘hottie of the year’,_ it’s _‘fresh face of the year’,_ ” the bassist corrected with a knowing look, “which is a title you technically can’t have because you’re _not_ a new artist, nor are you one who’s making a comeback.”

“Well, they still called him hot,” he murmured with an indignant pout.

“Is the presence of another attractive person offensive to you?”

“When they’re competing against me, yes, without a doubt.”

“There _is_ no competition, Trashykawa,” he exclaimed then with what probably was the hundredth sigh he had given that day. “What even is the point of this so-called research of yours, anyway? It’s like you’re trying so hard to connect imaginary dots.”

“The point of all this is to prevent Tobio from surpassing me!” the brunette replied, unwavering. “And the only way to do that is to keep being one step ahead. I mean, he’s amazing! The fans can see that, the band can see that, and hell, even _I_ can see that, so I _always_ have to be one step ahead of his genius, otherwise I’ll be _stuck_ in his shadow for the rest of my career.”

“ _Oikawa,_ ” Iwaizumi uttered sympathetically. “Kageyama might be talented, but you’re an incredible performer yourself. Stop beating yourself down and being so insecure—”

He butt in to break his words, not wanting to deal with _that_ conversation. “Even after everything, you still don’t see it?”

“No, because I’ve come to realize that there’s _nothing_ to see.”

“You can’t call my rivalry with Tobio _nothing_ when my whole music career is on the line!” he rebutted. “He’s like– like the plague, or– or an annoying cold, or– or like an extremely bothersome itch I can’t scratch.”

“Your words are turning clumsy, Oikawa.”

“Yeah, and why do you think that is?” he spat, unwilling to stop. “I’ve given you all the evidence and details, and _still_ you choose to be blind to the truth.”

“The only truth here is the fact that you promised me we’d drop this subject after that last story.”

“But Iwa-chan!”

“I’m not changing my mind,” the spiky-haired boy merely remarked, remaining unperturbed as he went to pick up his bass guitar that lay untouched by his side.

“But—”

The sharp glare he received then was enough to get him to shut up.

Guess he’ll just have to bring this topic back up again next time, when there were more open minds inclined to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I might not be able to update next week, here's a long update HAHA. I hope you enjoyed every part of it, especially the in-betweens where Oikawa and Iwaizumi would banter. That honestly wasn't supposed to be part, but I just love their friendship so much, one of my brotps, so this chapter got waaaay way longer than the usual 2-3k word count lmao.
> 
> Also, the way this was written was lowkey inspired by the Oikage fic "10 Signs You're Dating Oikawa Tooru" which is honestly also a good read, so if you haven't checked that out, [here's the link](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560869/chapters/51401500).
> 
> Anyway, I'm grateful that you guys stick around for this. I'm kinda struggling with writing it right now because of writer's block (which is why I gave a warning for possibly not updating), but I promise you guys I won't abandon it just yet. I love this universe and I love this pairing, so yeah.
> 
> Please leave a comment down below, bookmark, & kudos if you haven't! Talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ohhhmaegod) and/or [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/maeniac.exe/) as well! I like making friends.


	8. So Much More Than Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s more to Kageyama than meets the eye. The world had yet to see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, alternatively: Kageyama creates social media accounts.

Social media was never a thing Kageyama bothered with. 

Even during his glory days with K-3 and on his own, he wasn’t the kind to have a constantly active presence online. His management always had to pester him to post in order to keep the musician relevant, even curating his content first before letting him publish to the public (mainly because he’d be hopeless on his own). He might have understood the benefits, seeing social media as a platform for promotion of his music and his brand, but that didn’t mean he was invested in it. He couldn’t care less, not even in the slightest. 

So when he finally decided to take a pause from the limelight, it came as no surprise to most that he had decided to deactivate and disconnect, disappearing from the fans and the fame.

That didn’t mean that his name would merely fade away.

The natural course that often occurred for any artist who suddenly vanishes from the world would be to fizzle out and lose traction. Without the regular online content, there would be no news, no stories, and no talk to spread. This often led to stagnant dead air surrounding the artist, which would then deter most of their audience, even the most devoted of fans. As the years pass by, their relevance then shrinks until they’re eventually forgotten, turned into a mere footnote in music history.

In Kageyama’s case however, his reputation preceded him. His loyal followers kept pumping out content for his sake (they loved the boy too much to let him go), posting old concert videos, recovered Instagram photos, fan edits, and the like in order to entertain themselves and possibly entice others to keep the memory alive. Meanwhile, conversation regarding his renowned nickname “King of the Sound” had also still been relevant around this time, the debate on its true meaning never-ending as it was still being treated like a conspiracy (despite the fact that Kindaichi and Kunimi had already explained it in a random interview). 

With all the talk about him circulating online, it goes without saying that he didn’t need to keep an account to stay in the public eye. In a sense, that made him fall among the lucky ones; it helped make his return easier.

Yet still, the people didn’t know _him._ They didn’t have an idea of what he was like as an individual now, didn’t know of the major character improvements he had undergone with time. All they had was his past, a time the younger boy would rather leave behind.

Sugawara knew they had to change that. They had to show the world who Kageyama Tobio really was.

“Kageyama?” the pianist piped suddenly after one of their planning sessions, speaking as he packed up his laptop.

At the lack of a response, he faced the guitarist, noting immediately how he and their resident bubbly drummer made no move to leave the studio. His attention had been glued solely onto Hinata’s rambling, too busy sprawled on the floor writing down their ideas haphazardly into a notebook to hear the grey-haired boy’s beckon.

He would have let them be, leaving them to their devices so as not to ruin the spark of inspiration that overcame them both. However, he knew that he had an important matter to address, one that couldn’t be ignored now (especially since they were releasing new music soon).

So he went and tried again.

This time, the boy in question looked up from the pages. “Yes, Sugawara-san?”

“I’m sorry if this seems out of the blue,” he started sheepishly, scratching his head, “but I was just wondering… why don’t you have any social media accounts?”

It’s Hinata who reacts first, speaking before Kageyama could respond. “What? Kageyama-kun doesn’t have social media?!”

The ginger’s loud statement catches the rest of the band’s attention.

Iwaizumi, who was already packed up and heading towards the door to depart for the day, turned to his best friend who trailed behind him. He repeated the drummer’s question, “Kageyama doesn’t have any social media?”

The brunette kept an impassive expression, answering with a bored tone, “Apparently not.”

He narrowed his olive green gaze, observant. “Your lack of a reaction tells me that you already knew.”

“No I didn’t,” Oikawa lied. “I just don’t care.”

The spiky-haired boy scoffed at that, seeing through him easily. “You? Not caring? As if I’d believe that when you practically stalk him on a regular basis.”

“I do not!” he huffed, cheeks flushing red. “And you _can’t_ say things like that when he’s in the same room, Iwa-chan. He might be brainless but he still has ears.”

“He’s not brainless, Assikawa. Stop being a dickhead.”

Ignoring the bickering duo whose back-and-forth banter filled the studio with noise, Kageyama returned his attention to the current discussion. 

“I just didn’t want to handle my accounts anymore, so I deleted them,” was his answer to the grey-haired boy’s question, spoken with nonchalance.

“Eh, just like that?” Hinata butted in, blinking in confusion. “You let go of your entire online presence just like that?”

He matched the confused expression directed at him, not quite understanding the incredulity. “Yes?”

“Wow, that’s hardcore,” the ginger remarked. “I could never do the same. I wouldn’t want to lose all my posts! They hold precious irreplaceable memories. You know actually…”

The bubbly boy then went on a tangent about his moments with the guitarist which he had apparently tweeted about, but he was no longer listening. 

Instead, the words about memories resonated in his head, triggering hints of bad instances from his past to flicker into his head, a whirlwind of chaotic band practices and heated group arguments all caused by his relentless dictatorship — memories that he desperately wished to forget for good.

 _Not everyone’s as lucky as you, dumbass,_ he mused silently in retort while making sure to steel himself outwardly, his stoic face remaining indifferent save for his mouth turning downward a slight bit and his fist clenching onto his pen a little too tightly.

“Earth to Kageyama, are you still here?” Hinata piped upon noticing his bandmate’s sudden inattention.

“Shut up, idiot,” he merely muttered.

The angry response wasn’t what he was expecting. “What?! Why are you so mad this time? I wasn’t saying or doing anything mean or stupid at all! Do you hate getting complimented now too?”

Kageyama opens his mouth to bark out a reply, but his words are instantly silenced when Sugawara stepped in like a saving grace. “Leave him be, Hinata. He probably wasn’t listening to you.”

“I guess that’s possible,” the drummer replied then. “It’s rude but I forgive you.”

He simply nods to save face.

At that, the pianist went back to questioning the taller boy, steering the conversation back on track. “You wouldn’t mind creating new social media now though, would you?”

“Um,” he responded, “I guess not.”

He beamed at the answer. “Great! When do you want to start?”

“…What?” 

“I want to help you transition back to the online world,” Sugawara explained warmly upon hearing the clueless reply, “which is why I’m asking when would be most convenient for you.”

“Is that necessary, Sugawara-san?” he voiced. “I mean, it’s just making an account again, right?”

Overhearing the careless statement, Oikawa suddenly turned towards him, gasped, and then marched over, expression and demeanor dressed in disapproval. Iwaizumi had simply groaned at the dramatic nature of it all, clearly fed up with the theatrics, before walking over in order to keep his petty best friend from causing too big of a ruckus.

“Just making an account? _Just_ making an _account?!_ ” the lead vocalist exclaimed in disbelief the moment he was face to face with the younger boy. “Tobio-chan, do you hear yourself right now?”

Once again, Kageyama was confused with the reaction he was getting.

Hesitantly, he mumbled, “Yes?”

Given how freaked out his senpai had looked the moment the single word left his lips, he could deduce that his response was most likely the wrong answer.

“I can’t believe you,” the brunette remarked with a huff. “Do you want to ruin this band so bad?”

“He’s been out of touch for a long time, Oikawa,” the refreshing pianist supplied in an effort to calm him down. “That’s why I offered to help. No need to get so hostile about it.”

“But Koushi-chan, he’s helpless!” he reasoned. “I mean, what if he says something really embarrassing? Or posts a stupid selfie by accident because he can’t navigate the app? Or _worse,_ he leaks our new stuff before the release date!”

“I’m sure Kageyama isn’t that much of a social media wreck, silly,” Sugawara reassured. “He’s been gone, but it doesn’t mean he’s a beginner. Besides, the boy’s a quick learner.”

“You’re giving him too much credit!”

“If you’re getting so riled up about it, dipshit,” Iwaizumi cut in exasperatedly before the conversation could spiral further, “then maybe you should help him out too.”

He gaped at the bassist’s suggestion. “What?! Are you for real right now, Iwa-chan?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You helped Hinata, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” the drummer chimed in at the mention of his name. “You did help me set up my stuff, Grand King.”

“But this is Tobio-chan we’re talking about!” he complained.

“What fucking difference does it make, Trashykawa?!”

“You know what? That’s a great idea, Iwaizumi,” Sugawara said then before the brunette could retaliate, showing his agreement with a bright (yet somehow, oddly mischievous) smile. “Since Oikawa’s _really_ picky with our band’s branding, it’s ideal to have him overlook Kageyama’s account too.”

He pouts sheepishly. “I’m not _that_ picky—”

“You are.”

“Stop slandering my name, Koushi-chan.”

“But you are.”

“Suga-san’s got a point,” Hinata spoke in support. “I remember all the times you wouldn’t let me change my profile picture because it _‘wouldn’t match our aesthetic’,_ whatever that means.”

“Oh, I can _definitely_ relate to that one,” Iwaizumi added with a nod, further strengthening their claim.

“Okay, fine,” he eventually relents. “So maybe I am picky! I just can’t help but make sure we’re projecting our best online, you know?”

“So you’ll help Kageyama, then? Make sure he’s _‘projecting his best online’_ too?” the pianist remarks instantly, cutting to the chase and directly quoting him for emphasis.

He decides to give his bandmate an exaggerated protesting look as an answer, one that says _‘Never in a million years’._

It doesn’t seem to work.

If anything, it might have only earned him twin piercing gazes from Iwaizumi and Sugawara, making him feel like he had no choice in the matter at all.

He laments then, “I can’t believe you’re all ganging up against me again! And ironically, over Tobio-chan too.”

“Oikawa-san,” Kageyama suddenly prompts, breaking his silence before anyone could respond. 

As if on cue, all eyes flew towards the boy in question who had been quiet for most of the discussion, suddenly reminded of his presence in the room.

Oikawa spoke after a beat, his tone laced with dread. “What, Tobio-chan? Are you going to beg me too?”

“I was just going to say that if you don’t want to help, it’s fine,” he answered politely. “I’ll be okay with Sugawara-san’s guidance.”

Upon hearing the guitarist’s testimony, which the brunette soon realized was in _his_ favor (he really had expected the boy to side with the rest of the band), he grinned widely, eyes sparkling in victory as he crossed his arms.

“Well, you heard him! You can’t force me.”

The bassist sighed at his best friend’s smug expression; there really was no need to be so over-the-top all the time. “Then let’s get going now and leave them alone, douchebag.”

“Gladly,” he had the audacity to hum, as if it wasn’t him who barged into the conversation in the first place.

As the duo walked towards the door a second time to depart the studio, Iwaizumi sent the pianist an apologetic look. Sugawara acknowledged it with a silent nod, small tired smile on his face.

He made sure to keep watching as they exited for good, catching the cheeky parting wink sent by the singer his way, before turning back to the other pair that remained.

“Okay, so social media,” he started.

“I’ll download the apps for you, Yamayama-kun,” Hinata beamed enthusiastically, reaching for the phone that stayed unattended on the floor.

“Fuck no! I can do it myself, dumbass!” the guitarist countered immediately, quick reflexes allowing him to grab his mobile before his bandmate could.

“What? I’m just trying to help!”

“Help in other ways then.”

“Why are you so defensive about your phone anyway?” the ginger questioned curiously, intrigued by his friend’s reaction.

“None of your business,” he simply mumbled, eyes turned towards the device within his fingers.

The drummer pressed on, prying. “What are you hiding in there? Embarrassing photos? Song drafts? Numbers from groupies? I bet it’s the groupies!”

Blue eyes narrowed in disgust. “The hell? No!” 

“So what is it then? What’s the big secret?”

“Just shut up, Hinata.”

“But I wanna know!”

Watching and listening to the two simpleton idiots squabble, Sugawara smiled warmly, reminded of the reason why he had offered to do this in the first place. 

He couldn’t wait to show _this_ Kageyama to the world.  
  


* * *

  
The moment he sees the accounts, Oikawa internally screams.

Not that there was anything wrong on the surface level; he _did_ check, and everything had looked neat and okay on the get-go. 

Username? Good. The guitarist followed the same format as the rest of the band’s, a generic and recognizable @KageyamaTobio. 

Profile picture? Okay. His chosen display photo was a high-quality shot of him during a gig, looking mysterious and cool on his guitar, accentuated further by the glow of neon lights. 

Bio? Fine. He had a simple and appropriate description written out, although it may have been somewhat dorky ( _‘I play guitar for Soaring Glory.’_ ).

Overall, Kageyama’s profiles passed the singer’s social media criteria, seeming to fit and complement their band’s established image well enough. It really looked like he had nothing to worry about, could just trust that everything had gone right under Sugawara’s supervision.

When he finally got to the goddamn content posted however, that’s when things started going south.

To think that he was _so close_ to actually congratulating his reliable pianist for performing the miracle of making their awkward bandmate seem like he wasn’t an online wreck that needed saving. He was glad he held the words back now, because there it was: three alarming red flags that were a true testament to Tobio’s terrible social media presence, sitting boldly and blaringly right in front of his face.

Exhibit A: his first ever tweet on Twitter.

It wasn’t a simple _‘Hello’_ or _‘Hi everyone’,_ which was easily the go-to tweet for the occasion, nor was it relatively related to his fans or their band. Not even anything close to a stupid declaration of entering the Twitter community, which had been their drummer’s first ( _‘I’ve joined Twitter!!!’_ ), nor any sort of formal introduction, like their smooth pianist’s own ( _‘Hi Twitter! I’m Sugawara Koushi from Soaring Glory.’_ ). 

Instead, here he was, straight up answering Twitter’s default _‘What’s happening?’_ prompt as directly and as vaguely as he could.

> **Kageyama Tobio**  
>  @KageyamaTobio
> 
> Not much.
> 
> 7:39 AM  
>  **330** Retweets **659** Likes

_‘Not much.’_ Not much is happening for Kageyama Tobio. 

And he had felt the need to let it be known by the world, even felt the need to make it his _first ever tweet._

It was just stupid. So _so_ stupid. Oikawa wanted to hit his own head on the wall repeatedly at the dumb nature of it all.

Exhibit B: his first ever Instagram post.

While not everyone in the band was knowledgeable about matching feeds and color schemes, save for himself and Sugawara, they at least knew how to take their own photos and videos. If you’d visited their personal profiles, the collage of content actually looked presentable and acceptable. Maybe the singer would have preferred it to be better, more polished out, but it wasn’t a dreadful sight to scroll through Iwaizumi’s bass cover videos or Hinata’s chaotic collection.

What graced Kageyama’s once-empty Instagram account however was a low resolution, blurry photograph of pork curry with an egg on top and a glass of cold milk.

The problem with the post wasn’t the subject. If anything, food was a good trend to work on, even if it was unrelated to their group. A post on food would have opened the audience up to Kageyama’s other interests outside music while also remaining relatable enough for them to enjoy.

The problem wasn’t the caption either. _‘Breakfast’_ was all it said, and although extremely simple and straightforward, the one word captured the message the guitarist was trying to send perfectly well, allowing zero room for misinterpretation.

The problem _was_ the manner in which the photo was taken. The angle was wrong (he should have taken the photo from above, not the side), the focus was wrong (he probably didn’t even think to click on the screen to make his phone camera focus), and the lighting was wrong (despite it being a sunny morning, the shot was really dim). 

So many aspects of it fell in the category of _wrong,_ that it might have actually looked like a post composed by some amateur.

Oikawa didn’t want to be known as an amateur. He didn’t want anyone in _his_ band to be known as an amateur, not even Kageyama.

Exhibit C: his first ever Instagram story.

It’s nothing scandalous, really. It was just an innocent photo, probably an accidental selfie based on how it looked. 

The raven-haired boy in the image was peering sleepily into his screen, face slightly more amiable in this dozy state as his usual frown was softened into a thin line and his deep blue eyes were squinting slightly due to the phone’s bright shine. He was shrouded by the darkness of what was likely his bedroom, illuminated only by the glare of his mobile as it seemed like he was holding the device up above him while he lay in bed. He was also marginally blurred by lines, the kind that was caused by sudden movement.

He honestly would’ve called the photo cute, like the clueless boy was actually trying to be an adorable dork by taking a “candid” shot, had it not been painstakingly obvious that the image was a mistake.

Hell, _these accounts_ were a mistake. They might as well have been the official documented compilation of his social ineptitude, existing only to show that the boy didn’t know a single thing about what he was doing online. 

Leave him the way he was, and he would eventually end up causing more trouble.

Oikawa knew he couldn’t let that happen. He knew he should act fast and act now, probably break into his house to delete everything before it was too late. Yet he _also_ knew that would be a fruitless endeavor, given how the internet worked; the idiot’s posts were definitely already _immortalized forever,_ circulating fast through the help of the hopeless boy’s fans.

Before he could implode on himself at the unsettling thought, he quickly dials Sugawara’s number.

The grey-haired boy (thankfully) answers on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

“I trusted you, Koushi-chan!”

“Huh?” The brunette catches the sleepy tone through the device’s speaker. “Oikawa? What—”

“You said you’d handle Tobio, didn’t you?” he quickly cuts in, trying his best to make his voice more affable in the early hours of the morning.

“Um… what are we talking about here?”

“His social media,” he supplies helpfully. “You gave him the stellar idea of rejoining yesterday. Even said you’d help him with starting out.”

“Oh yeah,” came the gentle, more awake response. “I did. We set it up with Hinata before heading out of the studio yesterday. I also already promoted his profiles through the band account to help our fans find him. Did you finally see it?”

“Oh I did alright,” he mumbles into the phone. “I definitely see it.”

“Well…? How is it?”

The question breaks the dam holding back his emotions. “God, I don’t like what I see at all. I _told_ you he’s helpless! You should have listened to me.”

“Wait, what?” his bandmate asked, both confused and concerned. “What’s going on?”

He ignored the inquiry, giving the other his own interrogation instead. “Did you tell him to run things by you first before posting? I know that he’s an idiot, but if you actually had a hand in this stupidity, I’m never forgiving you.”

He hears nothing from the other end of the line for a moment, only shallow crackling caused by his signal.

When the silence extends a beat longer, he repeats his question with more distress. “Koushi, did you _tell_ him to show _you_ everything he wants to post _first_ before publishing it to the public?”

He hears a deep breath, and then:

“…No. I didn’t tell him.”

“Why would you do that?!” he complains into the phone immediately. “I warned you– ugh, have you at least seen his posts this morning?”

A laugh flutters through the receiver. “I literally woke up to your call, Oikawa.”

“This is a PR disaster! Everything is in chaos!” he whines in panic, running his free hand through already messy brown locks. 

“Okay, calm down and breathe,” he hears the soothing words from the soothing boy. “I’m sure whatever’s out there isn’t _that_ bad; you’re just overreacting.”

“You haven’t seen the mess, Koushi-chan. Your opinion is now null and void.”

He catches the sigh from the other end. “Did Kageyama leak music?”

“No.”

“How about phone numbers and other private information?”

“No.”

“So what is there to worry about then?” the pianist remarked matter-of-factly, probably in the hopes of giving him reassurance. “I’m telling you, he’s fine. Give him more liberty.”

He wanted to believe that, he really did.

Except he couldn’t, not with all the pieces of evidence that told him not to.

“I’m sorry but I can’t!” he breathes out, anxiously pacing around the expanse of his bedroom. “I know I said I wasn’t gonna meddle, but the brat’s really testing me.” 

“This is why you should listen to Iwaizumi and I when we give suggestions,” his bandmate chided. “If you were supervising with me, you wouldn’t stress this much.”

“I told you I _trusted_ you.”

“And I trust Kageyama, but you don’t.”

“You’re too nice for your own good,” he remarked with a huff and a shake of his head. “Anyway, what do you think I should do?”

“You’re just too stubborn,” the other answered with conviction. “Just let him be.”

“Bye. I’m ending the call.”

“Fine, if you don’t like that,” Sugawara quickly replied before the brunette could actually leave, “then go _talk_ to him. Tell him what to fix next time.”

“Next time?” he exclaimed at the advice. “This mess happened today. Why would I focus on next time?”

“Do you want this to happen again tomorrow? I mean, I know I’d be fine. Kageyama can do whatever he wants—”

He clicked his tongue. “Okay fine, I get it. Bye for real now, Koushi.”

“Good morning to you too, Oikawa,” was the farewell that came his way.

At that, he pulled his phone away from his ear and hung up, before flopping back down onto the futon that lay in the center of his room and scrolling through his contact list to find the guitarist and follow the pianist’s counsel.

He stares at the name for a moment when he finds it, watching the derpy photograph he had chosen for the boy as he contemplates how to proceed.

He knew it wouldn’t be effective to just explain through call or text. Kageyama would only listen if he cared enough, and based on the current status of his social media, Oikawa was sure that he didn’t care about this at all. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew he had to give his guidance in person to actually make any progress, providing yet another special one-on-one lesson to his kouhai for free.

He groans immediately at the thought of the situation he’s in, glaring at the boy’s contact information as he felt stuck once again in a place he didn’t want to be. _Today was supposed to be a day off,_ he muses. He wasn’t supposed to be doing _this._

And yet, here he was now, voluntarily typing out a text to his so-called nemesis.

He presses the send button before he starts to regret it all, watching as the little tick mark appeared below, indicating that the message had been delivered.

> **Me [8:11 AM]**  
>  tobio?

He bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at the screen in silence, waiting for the response. It doesn’t take too long.

> **Tobio-chan ( ≧Д≦) [8:12 AM]**  
>  Yes, Oikawa-san?

He doesn’t miss a beat.

> **Me [8:12 AM]**  
>  what’s ur address?

The question was extremely blunt and vague, but he couldn’t care less about it at this point. He just wanted to get this charade over with.

Luckily enough, Kageyama’s answer arrives immediately. Oikawa gets up at that, moving with haste.

When the boy texts again to ask his senpai for the reason behind the inquiry, he gets no reply — the singer was already on his way to his home to perform some damage control.

Guess he’ll just have to be surprised.  
  


* * *

  
Kageyama’s follower count rises steadily through the week. 

Beyond his and the band’s reputation, the added aid of Oikawa’s impromptu one-day seminar helped him develop a more solidified online presence. Instead of more throwaway posts like he had first placed (which they didn’t bother taking down anymore), he was now interacting with his audience and posting better content for the fans to peruse.

Content that was arguably adorably charming, although the singer would rather ignore that fact.

On Twitter, he had become more vocal about his thoughts, speaking about his love of music and his love of food. Whenever fans would reply, he had also learned to properly answer and react, giving them the satisfaction of being noticed by their idol. He even encouraged the discourse sometimes, tweeting easy questions for them to respond to. Sure, there would still be inklings of random idiotic musings (he really had one brain cell sometimes), but they held an appeal that the vain lead vocalist could let pass.

Meanwhile, his Instagram was a different tale. Given his lack of interest in anything photography related, his feed had remained scarce, although not empty. Beyond the first photo he had published, there were only two new posts: a more proper photo of himself inside his home (credits to Oikawa) and a guitar cover of another band’s song (inspired by Iwaizumi). When it came to stories, the boy never posted another one again, despite his senpai’s persistent convincing.

In the end, he might not have been the perfect online influencer, but he had improved immensely. And thanks to this improvement, his numbers had risen too.

It had even gotten to the point that despite his limited activity, he had surpassed his other bandmates and now had the second highest follower count within their group, inching closer to Oikawa’s own.

While he could’ve (and should’ve) been proud given that the boy’s online presence had been his little side project of sorts, this very fact instead made the brunette restless to the point that he was endlessly refreshing the opened tabs on his desktop’s browser and keeping a watchful gaze on the rising numbers.

“Do you understand how stupid you look right now, Crappykawa?” his best friend had said in lieu of a greeting when he walked into the boy’s bedroom and saw his state, followed closely by the good-natured pianist.

“It’s just so close, Iwa-chan,” he replied, eyes still glued to the screen as he sat on the floor with his knees to his chest. “I feel like if I keep my eyes off it for one second, his follower count would be tied to mine!”

“Does this matter?” the bassist had grumbled, setting his bass guitar case down on the floor. “It’s just followers.”

“How are you not concerned that his numbers had risen past yours?” he muttered. “It hasn’t even been that long since he’d created his accounts, and already—”

He was cut off before he could ramble on. “Kageyama had a following even before he joined, thanks to his music history. _Of course_ the moment his accounts come to life, his fans would come flocking. I mean, they’ve been _starved_ of content from him, so they’re obviously eager.”

“That’s…” he mumbled, “surprisingly accurate coming from you, but still! That doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m honestly just happy he’s become more expressive, even if his posts are still really few,” Sugawara commented, taking out his laptop from his backpack. “The people can finally find out more about him beyond just being a good guitarist. That’s all I wanted from the beginning.”

“All _I_ wanted was for him not to ruin our band’s name,” he grumbled. “I didn’t ask for him to suddenly get a spike of fame. Now he’d even beat me at this too!” 

“No he won’t,” the pianist reassured. “You’re still undoubtedly more active, and your posts are more refined too. You’ll be alright.”

“But look at this!” He gestured forward, towards the websites he had on screen, not quite listening to his bandmate. “This is real-time evidence that proves you wrong.”

“Stop with the nonsense. He hasn’t passed you yet,” his best friend remarked.

“See, you said _‘yet’,_ which means it’s about to happen!”

Iwaizumi sighed at that, glaring. “Do I have to remind you that this is _not_ a competition?”

“Well, it is to me,” he whined with a frown, ever so stubborn.

“You’re starting to look really fucking desperate, Trashykawa,” came the retort. “I’d say obsessed even, almost as if you’re his number one fan.”

“God no. I am definitely not,” he exclaimed incredulously at the accusation. “Every fiber of my being _hates_ him.”

“Do you really, though?” the pianist hummed. “I mean, I definitely wouldn’t go out of my way to improve the online activity of a person I hated. I wouldn’t compulsively watch his social media either.”

“You’re not helping, Koushi-chan!”

“I’m just giving you facts, Oikawa,” he answered smoothly.

“Why has this been the theme of most of my conversations lately?” he complained then. “It’s as if you're suggesting I _like_ him.”

“Your words, not ours,” the bassist cheekily replied, smirking smugly.

He cringes at the insinuation. “Oh, fuck you, Iwa-chan.”

“That’s just another fact, Oikawa,” the pianist said in support, also wearing a matching mischievous grin on his face.

“Are you kidding me right now? That’s not— Ugh, whatever!” the brunette whines with a glare. “The only _fact_ I’ll acknowledge is the fact that his numbers are rising fast, and that’s _only_ because of me.”

“Not _just_ you. He has a personality too, remember?” Sugawara remarked casually. “But I’m sure he’s thankful for your help.”

“And _I’m_ sure he couldn’t care less about followers,” Iwaizumi added, “so can we please move on?”

Begrudgingly, he sighed, refreshing the websites one last time (Kageyama gained 50 followers on Twitter and 32 on Instagram) before eventually closing the tabs. 

He’ll just have to check on it again later, after the two leave. He had to make sure his kouhai hadn’t overcome him yet, even with all the useful pointers he had taught. 

This was the aspect he was unquestionably better at; he couldn’t lose here, too.

“Oh, thank God,” Iwaizumi remarked exasperatedly at his actions. “For a moment, I thought we were never going to write songs today.”

He glared. “Leave me alone, Iwa-chan.”

Thankfully, the boy did.

(When he opens up the tabs again come night time, he finds himself still in the lead.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my occasional "leave your thoughts in the comments" message. Please, I need feedback lmao.
> 
> Also so sorry if it's been a while since my last update. This chapter's lengthy again so I hope that makes up for it. 
> 
> Alas, writer's block is really hitting me so I might stop with the weekly updates (I already failed to follow through anyways) and try writing one shots for now before making another chapter for this fic to get back in touch w this pairing. I promise tho, there's a whole story plotted out already, so this fic _will_ be written. The only problem rn is getting the words out of my head + online classes might start soon for me so even less time to get back to the grind ugh.
> 
> I hope u do stick around for the ride tho! I love this AU so much so I will try my hardest not to let it go to waste.
> 
> Anyway, I've been active on stan and anime social media (mainly Twitter) so I decided to bring that aspect into the fic finally. It was a good excuse to mess around with the formatting of things + to let Oikage interact more w that banter and competition we all know and love. Also, I love Tobio and all, but I don't think he'd be the most suave influencer ever, so yeah that explains this whole chapter lmao. Hope you guys enjoyed the interactions within the band + their quirky online personalities, and hope some part of this made you smile or laugh!


End file.
